Fumbling in the Dark
by Wincesteriffic Kaz
Summary: A spell steals something precious from Sam and leads to a revelation between the brothers. Set early season 2 Dean/Sam
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Fumbling in the Dark

**Author**: Wincesteriffic Kaz

**Info:** A spell steals something precious from Sam and leads to a revelation between the brothers. Set early season 2 Dean/Sam

**Author's Note:** Initially, I meant for this to be a one off but it got away from me and developed a mind of its own. At this point, I've no clue where we're going. Might take me a couple more chapters to get to the naughty. Bear with me, kids! :D This is obviously Wincest and a first-time story.

Graphic depictions within.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_**

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**Chapter 1**

"I'm getting real tired of this crap," Dean groaned as he climbed another wall. He leaned up over the top and kicked back when he felt Sam's big hands on his thighs, pushing. "Dude, knock it off. I got this."

Sam chuckled and dodged the kick. He pushed until his big brother was up on the wall. "Right. You were doing awesome dangling up there like bait on a hook."

"Shuddup." Dean glared down at his brother and then looked over the other side of the wall. "I don't see him. How the hell does he move this fast?" He swung his legs over and dropped to the other side. "Hurry up!"

Sam jumped and easily caught the top of the wall. He pushed up with his feet and swung in a graceful roll over the top to land beside his brother.

"Show off," Dean said with a smirk and slapped his shoulder. "Come on."

Sam rolled his eyes at the smile on his brother's expressive face and followed along beside him at a jog. "I hate ghouls."

Dean grinned and slid to a stop beside the next alley when he heard the sound of running footsteps to their left. "This way! This asshole is not gettin' away from us!" He cursed himself for not running the bastard down before he managed to duck into the storage yard. The place was a maze of sheds, alleys, and high walls. Worse was that the ghoul seemed to know his way instinctively through all of them. "How come he couldn't have eaten a fat old dude? Huh? No. He's gotta chomp on the high school track star. Son of a bitch!"

Sam managed a breathless laugh as he paced his brother. They stopped at a junction of buildings and he blew out a breath. "I'll take right."

"You get dead, I'm gonna be pissed," Dean warned him with a bump of his fist to his brother's shoulder before he took off to the left.

"Same goes, jerk!" Sam called back and broke into a sprint. There was little point in being quiet. The ghoul knew it was being chased and knew where they were. He reached another junction of alleys and made a quick decision, heading left and hopefully back around in a wide circle to meet up with his brother and trap the creature between them. Sam ran, keeping an ear out for the sound of footsteps through the moonlit night. The moon shone bright enough that he didn't have a need for his flashlight. Sam ran down the alley and heard his brother's shout from ahead. "Dean!" he called and picked up his pace. A moment of fear shivered down Sam's spine when he heard the report of a gun, and he ran. It wasn't that he didn't think Dean could take care of himself. His big brother was the most amazing Hunter Sam had ever known, even more so than their father, but he was still Sam's brother. Sam worried, whether Dean liked it or not.

"Dean! Talk to me!" Sam shouted. He skidded to a stop as his alley opened up into a small square surrounded by storage sheds and took in the scene. Dean was on his knees with the ghoul behind him. His gun was on the ground, too far to do any good, and Sam could see blood dripping from his brother's forearm to the concrete, glistening darkly in the moonlight. The ghoul, wearing the likeness of the tall, muscular, dark-haired track star was bending Dean's head back at an unnatural angle and opened his mouth wide.

"No!" Sam shouted. He drew his machete and broke into a run.

Dean craned his head to the side for a glimpse of Sam when he heard his brother's terrified shout and had to admit for once he didn't have the upper hand and wasn't sure how to get it back. There were times when having backup really was a welcome relief, and this definitely one of them. His arm burned where the ghoul had bitten into him and he wondered absently what sort of diseases the nasty thing might be caring from munching on all that rotting flesh. "Get off me… son of a… Sam!" Dean shouted as a red light suddenly burst around his little brother. It enveloped Sam, seeming to glow from the inside of him, and then he was falling to his knees with a shout of pain.

It gave Dean the extra burst of panic-fueled strength he needed. Dean reared back against the ghoul's strength, wrapped his arms around his head and pulled the creature over his shoulder to thump into the ground. "What'd you do?" Dean demanded as he straddled the creature's chest and took a bruising hold of his throat. He reached out with his other hand and caught Sam's fallen machete up, bringing it to press just under the ghoul's chin.

The ghoul laughed and tried to tip his head back away from the machete blade without success. "Had a witch for dinner… last month." He grinned up at Dean with bloody teeth. "Picked up a few things… after I cleaned my teeth. Sucks to be your pal."

"Screw this." Dean growled and shoved the machete blade down through muscle, sinew and bone until it thunked into the ground and severed the ghoul's head on a scream. "Bastard wasn't gonna tell us anything anyway. Sam?" He scrambled off the ghoul's still-twitching, headless corpse and went to Sam, grabbing his shoulders as he knelt in front of him. "Sammy, talk to me. You ok?" The red glow had subsided and left his skin, but Sam was blinking dazedly down at the ground even as Dean gave his shoulders a shake. "Sam!"

"Dean." Sam's voice was hoarse with emotion and he fumbled his hands up to grab his brother's arms. "Dean, I can't…" he swallowed hard and felt moisture gathering in his eyes in reaction. "Dean, I can't see," he whispered, as though saying it too loud would make it more real, more nightmarish.

"What?" Dean grabbed Sam's face and tipped it up. He watched Sam's eyes rolling in fear, but they never settled on his own, never saw him. "Oh, my God. Ok. Just… when you say you can't see, you mean like it's dark? Shapes, maybe? Something?"

Sam shook his head and started shaking. "Nothing. There's nothing. Just blackness. Oh, God. Dean!"

"Ok, ok. Calm down. Take it easy." Dean tightened his grip on his brother's shoulders. "We'll figure this out. It's just a spell. We'll fix it. I'll fix this." He had no idea how he was going to fix whatever was wrong but couldn't afford to let his little brother know that he was every bit as panicked as Sam was. "Lemme finish this and we'll get outta here. Just… sit tight for a minute." Dean gave Sam's shoulders another squeeze and then stood. He pulled Sam's pack off his arm and dug out the salt and lighter fluid.

Sam sucked in a breath as Dean's hands left him and felt cut adrift in the darkness. The feeling that had roared through him had felt like something sucking the life out of him. His head was pounding with pain to rival his visions, enough so that his stomach was rolling and, as he listened to Dean's footsteps move away, he lost his battle.

Dean spun with the sound of retching and found Sam hunched over on all fours, gagging out what little he'd had to eat that afternoon. "Crap. Hang on, buddy," Dean told him and hastily poured salt and lighter fluid over the ghoul's corpse and head.

Sam coughed and spat and swallowed hard, forcing back the need to throw up again as he rocked back on his heels. His balance was shot, and he toppled back onto his butt on the ground in a dizzying spin. "Dean," Sam called and put a hand out, suddenly needing to know where his brother was. He needed an anchor to remind him that he wasn't alone. He gasped when Dean's hand grabbed his own and the sound of flames filled the quiet.

"Hey, I'm right here." Dean soothed his brother and looked at Sam's fear-filled, rolling eyes. "Take a breath, Sammy. Come on. Let's get you up. You hurt anywhere?"

Sam allowed Dean to pull him unsteadily to his feet and he leaned heavily on him while he put a hand to his head. "My, uh… my head is killin' me."

"Ok, not a shock." Dean turned his brother and started toward what he hoped was a way out of the damn maze while the ghoul burned merrily behind them. "So, snuggles back there said he ate a witch. I'm thinkin' you tripped some sort of screwy hex. We'll call Bobby and figure this out. No big. We've dealt with this crap before. Freakin' witches. "

Sam nodded. "Right." He tried to latch onto Dean's optimism, but he couldn't quite make himself believe his brother's soothing words. Something told him getting his sight back wasn't going to be a simple deal. He'd never seen a hex like the one he stumbled into. He remembered red light swarming through his vision and seeming to explode inside his head before everything went dark. Whatever the ghoul had done, wherever he had learned that particular trap, there wasn't going to be an easy out. He knew it instinctively and tried not to let the fear choke him. "Dean."

"I mean it, Sammy. We will fix you." Dean refused to let Sam hear the uncertainty in his own voice. That was the last thing either of them needed, Dean adding to his little brother's obvious terror. "Easy," Dean steadied Sam when he swayed and slipped an arm around his waist. "Just walk with me. That's it. Don't make me carry your gigantor ass." It bothered him that Sam let the comment go by. It wasn't like him to let Dean get away with teasing him, and that said more about Sam's current state of mind than any words could. "We'll figure this out, Sammy."

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Sam sat on his bed with his head in his hands and tried not to give in to the need to yell for his brother. He could hear Dean on the phone outside their room, but it wasn't enough. He needed Dean inside. He snorted to himself. If he was honest, he needed Dean to be within touching distance. It was the only thing that helped push away the crushing loneliness of not being able to see anything and he hated the weakness of it. Without Dean to hold onto, Sam felt cut adrift in the black. He curled his fingers in the legs of his jeans and tried to stop trembling like some frightened school-girl. He was a grown man and a Winchester dammit. He needed to do better than this. If Dean said they would figure it out, they would. He just had to believe that.

"Hey."

Sam jumped in surprise. He hadn't heard the door open or Dean return, so lost in his own thoughts had he become. "Shit."

"Sorry. Should'a knocked or something." Dean grinned and it faded quickly with the reality that Sam couldn't see it. He frowned and went to his brother. Dean sat next to him and grabbed one of Sam's hands on his thighs. "Dude, loosen up." Sam had a white-knuckled grip on the legs of his jeans and it hurt just looking at his fingers. "What's goin' on?"

Sam shook his head and took his first deep breath with Dean in the room and touching him. "Just… nothing."

"What, man?"

"I can't see, Dean. Isn't that enough?" Sam retorted angrily and then blew out a breath. "Sorry. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have…"

"Forget it," Dean said with a smile and put his other hand on the back of Sam's neck to offer him comfort. "Look, Bobby's gonna check it out and find some way to reverse the hex or spell or whatever it was you tripped. Have you good as new in no time." He squeezed Sam's neck and chuckled. "And in the meantime, you got me waitin' on your happy ass hand and foot. What more could you want?" He was relieved when Sam simply smiled instead of answering. "We need food. You wanna wait here and I'll go get something or you think you can eat in public?"

"I'll go with you," Sam said quickly. The thought of being alone in the motel room while Dean was gone sent a shiver of fear through him and he smiled to cover it. "I'm starving. I'd rather not wait."

"No problem. We'll do sandwiches or something that doesn't require silverware." Dean stood and brought Sam up with him, smiling when Sam's hand slid up his arm to his biceps and took firm hold. "And we're walkin'," Dean said in his best prissy, museum tour guide voice.

"You're such an ass," Sam said with a laugh and focused on following the tug of Dean's arm under his hand. To his surprise, he found it easier than he might have expected to walk fairly confidently with Dean's guidance until he recalled why it felt so familiar. Part of their long-ago training under their always-plan-for-the-worst father had included plenty of blindfolded exercises, including helping each other out of whatever trap he set for them. It still amazed him sometimes just how ingrained so much of that early training was that it could come back when needed without even conscious thought. He wondered if Dean realized he was using the same technique to guide him as he had when they were children.

Still, ancient training exercises aside, the reality of the situation was unnerving and still threatened to swamp him emotionally at any moment. It was jarring to feel the cooler air outside on his face, hear the passing of cars and the sound of a jet flying by overhead and not be able to see anything. "This really sucks."

"Yeah, I know." Dean took Sam to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. He put a gentle hand in Sam's hair and made sure his brother didn't crack his skull on the frame bending his long body into the seat. He shoved the door closed and went around to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel before Sam had time to do more than frown at his absence. "I need me some pie."

Sam smiled and then sighed in relief when the engine growled to life. It was one of the most comforting sounds he'd ever known and didn't fail to help settle his nerves now.

Dean rolled his eyes fondly as he drove when he noticed Sam's left hand inching across the seat until it found and latched onto the hem of his jacket. It was something Sam had done often as a child when he needed reassurance and Dean didn't have it in him to tease Sam for it now, not with what he was going through. "There's sunglasses in the glovebox. You want 'em?"

Sam nodded and reached his right hand forward until he found the catch, more from memory than anything else. He felt around until he found the glasses and took them out; placing them on his face one-handed. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean pulled up in front of the diner they'd eaten at yesterday and parked. "Ok, Stevie Wonder. Let's get some grub."

Sam slapped a hand out and caught his brother's shoulder before he could leave the car. "Jerk!"

"Bitch." Dean chuckled.

"Gigantic, huge jerk," Sam grumbled and opened his door. He barely had one foot on the ground before Dean's hand was on his head again, making sure he didn't crack it on the car as he got out. It was both frustrating and comforting. It had been a long time since Dean had mother-henned him so completely and Sam couldn't very well complain about it. He was helpless and he hated it.

Dean led Sam up the three short steps into the diner and to a booth near the back where hopefully his little brother wouldn't feel quite so on display, not that Sam could see any of the curious looks darted their way. It was night after all and Sam was wearing sunglasses. People were going to look. Dean glared at each person who dared to stare at his brother until they looked quickly away.

Sam let Dean nudge him down into a booth and he tried not to feel like a room full of people were watching him. "Dean, are people staring at me?"

"With me in the room to marvel at?" Dean snorted. "Please. All eyes are on the prettier brother."

Sam gave a small laugh, shaking his head at Dean's shamelessness and stretched his feet out under the table until they bumped into Dean's. He shamelessly slid his foot in between Dean's and left it there, needing the contact. "Just order me a BLT and coffee."

"You can order your own food," Dean said and kicked Sam's foot gently. "Your eyes don't work, dumbass. Not your mouth."

"Shuddup," Sam grumbled but inwardly he was warmed that Dean was trying to appear as normal as possible in spite of everything. He ordered when the waitress came and even found his coffee cup on his own. Sam poked at the glasses over his eyes and frowned. "It's still dark out isn't it?"

"Naw, it's almost morning." Dean said easily. It was actually more like four in the morning with dawn hours away but Sam didn't need to know that. "You know, normal people are asleep now."

"Well, that counts us out as usual." Sam sighed and huddled his hands around the warm mug. "Dean…"

"Bobby'll find it, Sam," Dean said before Sam could finish his thought. It didn't take a genius to figure out where he'd been going. "Try to let it go for now, man."

"Right." Sam blew out another breath and bit back the harsh, angry words crowding his tongue. The need to lash out was hard to ignore, but Dean didn't deserve it and Sam couldn't do without him just then, not that he thought Dean would abandon him no matter WHAT he said, but still. They ate in strained silence with Sam listening to the restaurant around them - the low voices, clinking silverware, a dish dropped in the back, the scuff of their waitress' no doubt sensible shoes each time she came to their table. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being stared at and shook his head at himself, wishing for even the smallest sliver of light in his dark world.

Dean was at a bit of a loss as to what to say to Sam to make it better, or at least make it less terrifying. He didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to be blind and not know if you'd ever get your vision back. He shook himself and was glad Sam couldn't see the dark expression on his face. It was too terrifying to consider. Sam's life as a hunter would be over, and Dean's head jerked up to stare at Sam's covered eyes. Sam's life as a hunter would be over, and so was Dean's along with him. Sam would be defenseless without his sight, and Dean would never again be able to put him in harm's way or leave him alone.

Yes, most normal people finding themselves suddenly blind through accident or illness, eventually learned to adapt and many lived very independently. But no matter how much Sam may have wished for it, they were far from normal folks. There were way too many things, evil things, with a deadly interest in his little brother to ever risk it if Sam couldn't see. Once word got out in the supernatural community that Sam was vulnerable…Dean didn't even want to think about how bad that could get. "Shit."

"Dean?" Sam heard his brother's soft curse and frowned. "You ok?"

"Uh, yeah." Dean nodded even though Sam couldn't see it and tried to come to terms with that revelation if Bobby couldn't find a way to fix him. "Just bit my tongue. Finish your coffee, princess."

"Bite me," Sam grumbled but he picked up his cup. It actually wasn't as hard as he'd thought it'd be to eat a sandwich and drink his coffee without seeing them. Some things the body apparently could do from muscle memory and he didn't miss his mouth once. He lifted his coffee cup again and gasped as pain lanced behind his eyes.

"Sam?" Dean watched his brother's brows vanish behind the glasses in a frown as his hands started to shake. "You ok? Sam. Crap!" He lurched up as Sam's coffee cup fell from his hands to the table with a clatter. Dean put a knee on the seat next to Sam and grabbed his hands. "Shit, Sam. Your hands are scalded." The skin of Sam's hands was wet from the coffee and reddening as Dean watched.

"Dean," Sam managed between clenched teeth. He freed one hand to bring it up to his head as the pain amped up even higher.

"Vision?" Dean asked softly as he leaned over Sam and ignored the murmurs of the other people in the diner.

Sam nodded once and moaned softly, letting Dean pull him in against his chest as the pain rolled through him. "Dean…"

"I gotcha." Dean hated the visions as much as his brother did, maybe more so. Sam, though he hated how different they made him, could at least focus on the chance to do good with them. Dean just saw his little brother in pain, and it pissed him off and frightened the hell out of him that there was nothing he could do about it, not to mention that neither of them knew what it meant. That fear only grew after dad's death and those whispered last words that haunted Dean daily.

Sam choked on a scream when the pain seemed to explode inside his head all at once and then it was gone. He collapsed into Dean, weak from the onslaught and tried to remember how to breathe.

"Shit, Sam? What the hell was that?" Dean asked worriedly. "No, he's fine, dammit. Back off!" he told the waitress and the few patrons who had dared to come over to the table to either help or see what all the fuss was about. "I got him. Sammy?"

Sam shuddered against Dean's chest and fisted his hands in his brother's shirt. "Didn't… didn't happen. The vision… it didn't." He sagged deeper into Dean's presence and was dizzy with relief as the pain started to slowly fade back to manageable levels. "Oh, my God. It took the visions too. The hex or spell or… or whatever. It took them too."

Dean wrapped an arm around his brother's shaking shoulders and held onto him. He couldn't tell if Sam sounded relieved or upset about that and figured it was probably a little bit of both. "You good to blow this pop stand?"

Sam nodded slowly but didn't release his hold on his brother. "Yeah. Just… help me up?"

Dean eased off the booth and brought Sam with him. "Ok, easy."

"Sir, I should really call an ambu…"

"We're fine. I told you," Dean said angrily when the waitress bugged him yet again and tossed a few bills onto the table. "We're leaving." The last thing his little brother needed was to be locked down in a hospital with all kinds of tests being done on him for something they couldn't fix. "One foot in front of the other, Sammy. You got this."

Thoughts were whirling through Sam's sore head as Dean carefully led him out of the diner. If the visions were gone, then he had no way of helping people, no way of tracking the demon that had killed their mother and Jess. He hated the pain that came with them and he hated that it meant he was tainted somehow by evil, but without that small leverage, they would never find the demon. More people would die. He swallowed hard around a sudden burst of nausea. "Dean."

"Just hold it together 'til we get out the door and you can puke on the ugly bushes." Dean smirked and kicked open the diner door. He steered Sam out and then turned him, putting an arm across his chest to keep him standing just seconds before Sam began heaving into the aforementioned bush. "Ok, easy, buddy. I gotcha." Dean slid his free hand over Sam's forehead, keeping his hair out of his face while he gagged until finally he was reduced to panting to catch his breath. "You good for the car?"

Sam nodded and felt a little humiliated at the tears he could feel wetting his face. He felt worse than useless and couldn't help but strain his eyes trying to see when there was no point. His only comfort was Dean's steady presence and touch that, thankfully, his big brother hadn't started shying away from yet. He let himself slump a little into Dean as they walked presumably toward the car. He'd missed being able to touch Dean whenever he wanted. Sam had stopped touching Dean somewhere in his teens, right about the time his hormones had woken up and he'd had a few disturbing wet dreams that featured his big brother. He knew then it was wrong and had pulled back from Dean to put a stop to it. At least Dean had never realized why Sam had suddenly needed to grow up so quickly. That would have been truly humiliating on every level.

"Hey, watch your head." Dean eased Sam down into the passenger seat, closed the door and then leaned on the roof of the car for a moment collecting himself. "Dammit."

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Dean stood outside the bathroom door, listening to the shower run and Sam's quiet cursing. "Sammy?"

"I, uh…" Sam's face flushed as he bent and felt around the bottom of the bathtub. "Nothing."

"What?" Dean stepped into the room and could see Sam's shadow hunched over behind the curtain.

"I dropped the fuckin' soap, alright? Don't say it," Sam warned in a bad-tempered growl. "Just don't even…"

"Hey, hey. I wasn't gonna." Dean chuckled, smiled and kept the comments to himself. "You, uh… you need a hand?"

"No." Sam pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it rather than give in to the gut reaction that warmed him with the thought of Dean in the shower with him. He shook his head and sighed when his questing fingers finally closed around the small bar of soap. "I got it."

Dean watched his brother's lean shadow straighten and stand behind the curtain and nodded. "Ok, I'll be right out here you need anything." He quickly left the room rather than watch the shadow play of his naked little brother bathing and the mental images that suddenly swarmed his mind; the all too easy imagine taste of licking water off salty skin. Dean shook his head and scrubbed his hands over his face to push the thoughts away. It had taken him an hour to convince Sam he could do it, and he'd finally managed it by stuffing his nose behind Sam's ear and sniffing loudly, telling him that he stank. Sam had stiffened up, gasped and jerked to his feet with a curse. Dean chuckled again, un-brotherly thoughts back where they belonged for the moment, and dropped into the chair at the table. Having his little brother blind was challenging Dean's rules about chick flicks. For two days Sam had been keeping him within arm's reach and, really, Dean understood, as much as he was able to at least.

Sam fumbled for the knobs to turn off the water and tried to imagine spending the rest of his life like this, in the dark, having to learn to even find the damn shampoo by memory rather than sight. The fear settled into the pit of his stomach like a weight as he pulled the curtain aside and tried to find the towel he knew Dean had left him. "Dammit. Dean! Where'd you put the towel?"

Dean jumped to his feet and stuck his head around the door to answer. The sight that met him dried the saliva in his mouth as he took in his naked, dripping brother. His eyes watched the beads of water traveling down the muscles of Sam's chest and between his legs and Dean quickly jerked his head back out of the room. He swallowed hard, ignoring the reaction of his traitorous cock and cleared his throat. "It's on top of the toilet. Your right side," he called and paced across the room back to the table. "Jesus," he muttered and scrubbed his hands down his face. "The fuck is wrong with me?" Oh, he'd had thoughts before when Sam was younger, when his little brother suddenly became not so little and it was impossible to ignore how beautiful he was becoming; his brother and that ridiculous shaggy hair of his that just made his blue-green eyes even harder to ignore. "Get a grip, Dean."

"Dean?"

"Yeah." Dean spun to find Sam in the bathroom door with a towel clutched around his waist. "Clothes?"

"Yeah." Sam tried not to scream at the humiliation of needing his big brother to pick out his clothes for him. He couldn't even handle that task on his own. He knew with practice he'd be able to keep everything sorted and in its place so he could find it, could even learn the layout of a home so he could walk without running into things. People did it all the time. But, dammit, he didn't want to. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life crippled without his sight, let alone what that would mean for him and Dean. He knew Dean. There was no way his brother would leave him to deal with being blind alone, and Dean without hunting… Sam shook his head to himself. It would never work. Dean loved the job too much; and worse, Sam couldn't even imagine being separated from him again. It had been hell while he was at school, even with Jess. He'd thought of his brother every day. Sam jumped when something soft was pushed into his chest.

"Easy. Here ya go. Sweats, panties and a shirt." Dean grinned at Sam's bitch-face and patted his damp shoulder before moving quickly away.

"Funny, Dean." Sam rolled his sightless eyes and turned to his right. He bent and stretched his hand out as he took a step, relieved when he found the end of his bed on his own. He sat down and started feeling through the clothes in his lap. "We ordering in?"

"You actually hungry? Yeah, sure." Dean nodded and grabbed his phone. "I'll step out and call. Back in a sec." He made a hasty retreat as Sam pulled the towel loose from his hips and pulled the door shut behind him. "Christ, I need a cold shower… or a lobotomy."

Sam dressed as quickly as he was able, using the tags on his clothes to make sure he put them on the right way around and not inside out. When he was dressed, he sat on his bed with the damp towel in his lap and tried not to feel bereft without Dean in the room. "Get a grip, Sam," he told himself disgustedly but couldn't help picturing his brother's eyes and those full lips and the increasingly painful need to actually see them with his own eyes once more.

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_To Be Continued… _


	2. Chapter 2

**=Title:** Fumbling in the Dark

**Author**: Wincesteriffic Kaz

**Info:** A spell steals something precious from Sam and leads to a revelation between the brothers. Set early season 2 Dean/Sam

**Author's Note:** Ok at LEAST one more chapter. :D

Graphic depictions within.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_**

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"_Easy. Here ya go. Sweats, panties and a shirt." Dean grinned at Sam's bitch-face and patted his damp shoulder before moving quickly away._

"_Funny, Dean." Sam rolled his sightless eyes and turned to his right. He bent and stretched his hand out as he took a step, relieved when he found the end of his bed on his own. He sat down and started feeling through the clothes in his lap. "We ordering in?"_

"_You actually hungry? Yeah, sure." Dean nodded and grabbed his phone. "I'll step out and call. Back in a sec." He made a hasty retreat as Sam pulled the towel loose from his hips and pulled the door shut behind him. "Christ, I need a cold shower… or a lobotomy."_

_Sam dressed as quickly as he was able, using the tags on his clothes to make sure he put them on the right way around and not inside out. When he was dressed, he sat on his bed with the damp towel in his lap and tried not to feel bereft without Dean in the room. "Get a grip, Sam," he told himself disgustedly but couldn't help picturing his brother's eyes and those full lips and the increasingly painful need to actually see them with his own eyes once more._

**Chapter 2**

Dean set the bag of food on the small table and started pulling burgers out. He watched his little brother's pale face as he stood from his bed. "You doin' ok?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah." How could he tell Dean that he was drowning in fear every time he was left alone? "Great. What'd you get?"

"Burgers. Come on. Three steps ahead. You got this." Dean smiled as Sam slowly made his way to the table and he took his brother's arm before he could run into a chair. "Ok, sit. Chair's right in front of you. I talked to Bobby. He said we need to figure out who the witch was, the one ghoul guy munched on." He grabbed Sam's hand and put it on top of a burger and then sat with his own. "Bobby said the dead chick's house should have a spell book or something that'll help us narrow down what the ghoul used on you."

"Makes sense. I'll…" Sam set his burger down and thumped back into his chair. "I'll just sit over here while you do all the research."

"Dude, take it easy." Dean frowned. "You're not useless."

"Right, because they write so many texts on lore in Braille." Sam threw his arms up in frustration. "If I even knew how to read Braille! Face it, Dean. I am fuckin' useless right now. A demon could come through that door and all I'd be good for is cannon fodder!"

"Ok. First of all, even without your eyes, I still trust you more than any other hunter we know and second…" Dean snorted, hoping he could defuse Sam's bout of self-hate. "…fodder? Really? Isn't that a type of animal crap?"

"What? No, it's…" Sam blew out a breath and put a hand over his face. "Sorry."

Dean put a hand on Sam's knee and squeezed for a moment before picking his burger back up again. "Don't worry about it. I'd be worried if you didn't PMS a little over this."

"Shut up." Sam rubbed his face and then reached out for his burger again, feeling around the table until he found it. "It's just… I can't get a handle on this. I mean…"

"I know. We'll get through this, Sam. I promise." Dean spoke firmly, trying to give his brother some hope. "You know Bobby's not gonna sleep 'til we figure this out."

Sam snorted. "Great. 'Cause he's loads of fun when he's sleep deprived."

"We'll just bring him a bottle of Hunter's Helper." Dean chuckled. "He'll be fine."

"Are we going to Bobby's?" Sam asked and bit into his burger.

Dean shrugged. "No reason to right now that I can think of. Unless you want to."

Sam shook his head. He didn't relish the idea of trying to navigate Bobby's house without his sight. Granted, he'd practically grown up there and knew the place inside and out. Without being able to see, however, it was a whole different ballgame, and Bobby would be one more person to see him fumbling uselessly about. "No, I'm good here for now. We'd just be in his way."

"Ok, here it is." Dean watched Sam eat and knew his brother was afraid that he'd be the one in the way if they went to Bobby's and that was ridiculous. He sat back and took a deep breath. "Sammy, you know that whatever happens, I'm gonna be right here with you, right? I'm not sayin' you're gonna stay blind 'cause you're not, I'm just saying if it did happen, which it won't, I'd be here, dude. We'd be okay."

Sam pulled his head up, wishing he could see what was no doubt a goofy attempt at a comforting smile on Dean's face and gave his own, small smile. "That was… almost comforting, Dean. C for effort."

"Hey, that was at least an A minus, dammit." Dean snorted a laugh and kicked the leg of his brother's chair. "You're not alone is what I'm trying to get through your thick skull."

"I know. I do." Sam finished his burger and leaned back in the chair. He closed his eyes to stop himself blinking furiously, as though trying to clear his vision and sighed. "It's just hard to deal with, you know?" He turned his face toward where he thought his brother was and put on a smile. "You know, you'd finally have to let me have a dog if I get stuck this way."

"Oh, hell no. We're fixing you." Dean appreciated the attempt at humor and stood, clearing the table. "Not havin' any wet mutt on my baby's upholstery."

Sam chuckled sadly and listened to Dean move around the room. He heard him set a heavy bag on the table and thought it sounded like his laptop bag. "There's a folder on the desktop for my research. Should be a list of victims in there, so we… so you can figure out who the witch was."

Dean pulled the laptop out and picked up the television remote. "Why don't you listen to the tv or something while I wade through this? Gotta be more exciting. Here."

Sam felt the remote tap his shoulder and he grabbed it. "Yeah. Sure." He rose carefully and turned in the direction he thought his bed was in, relieved when a moment later his toes bumped the bottom and he sat, pushing back to lean against the headboard. "Where's the tv again?" he asked, holding up the remote.

"Your left," Dean replied and decided not to mention that Sam was laid out on his bed instead of his own. There was no point making the kid feel worse than he already did, and Sam would. He was just like that. He sat back down and turned on the laptop with a silent plea that Bobby would find a way to reverse this nightmare before Sam sank into depression and anger.

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Sam sat in the passenger seat of the Impala and fumed. "I'm not staying here."

"And you're not going in, so get over it!" Dean lowered his voice with difficulty and watched the stubborn look on his brother's face. "Dude, how are you gonna back me up in there right now?" He felt like an ass for saying it, but Sam needed to accept that until he got his sight back, going into a dangerous situation was off the damn menu. Dean had already relented enough to allow him to come and stay in the car. "Sam. Look, the witch is long dead. She got munched by a ghoul, remember? I'm just searching her house for her grimoire. No big deal."

"And what if she trapped the place?" Sam demanded. "What then? You need backup!"

"And I have it! If I don't come out of that house in an hour, I know you'll call the cops and get help." Dean slid a hand onto Sam's shoulder and squeezed. "It sucks, ok? I know that and I hate leavin' you out here, but I can't take you in with me, Sammy. You know that."

Sam kicked the floorboard and thumped his back into the seat in resignation. "Fine. Twenty minutes, though. I don't hear from you in twenty, I'm calling the damn cavalry if you don't call me first, and I don't care if they catch you sniffing her underwear drawer, got it?"

"Dude, I don't sniff." Dean smiled and thumped his brother's shoulder. "I fondle. Twenty minutes. Sit tight."

Sam listened to him slide out of the car and blew out a breath. "Where the hell am I gonna go?"

Dean stood in front of the car for a moment looking at Sam's angry face and hated having to leave him there. "Sorry, little brother," he whispered and turned away. He jogged up to the little white house that had belonged to Nancy Carter, resident Tupperware lady and witch and went around the back. No reason for the neighbors to get a show, if anyone was even looking.

The back door was locked and Dean made quick work of picking it, knowing he was on the clock. He didn't doubt that Sam was counting in his head and would make that call after twenty-one minutes. Dean snorted. More likely the idiot would try to find his way across the yard and into the house on his own and that scared Dean into moving even faster.

Dean walked into the house, closing the door behind him and looked around the darkened kitchen. "Wow. Lady, you liked Tupperware way too damn much." The plastic containers were stacked in neat rows along every counter space with handmade labels on the front of each that he couldn't read without his flashlight and didn't bother trying. It had been nearly a month since she died, and a thin layer of dust coated everything as Dean moved out of the kitchen and into her living room.

"Oh, man." Dean groaned and shook his head. The living room was a riot of dust-covered pink doilies and throw pillows, and he passed through it with a shudder. "Don't know how anyone lives with that frou-frou crap. Aw, now we're talkin'." He grinned as he entered a new hall and saw what had to be a cellar door. "Bet you stowed all your witch goodies in the basement, like a good little evil-doer." He flicked the light on and was relieved the power was still on. Dean went slowly down the stairs, eyes alert for any sign of a trap or hex. He didn't want to end up in the same state as his little brother or worse. Dean reached the bottom and looked out into the cellar. An altar sat against the far wall, and, like the kitchen upstairs, was covered in small Tupperware containers, and he was sure these weren't filled with cooking supplies. He stepped out onto the floor and jerked back as a bright, white light flashed through the room and a riot of sound exploded in his ears.

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Sam sat dejected in the passenger seat, counting off twenty minutes in his head while his brother was off alone in a dead witch's house. He rubbed a hand over his useless eyes and resisted the urge to simply scream with frustration over the whole thing. He went over that night in the storage lot in his head and honestly couldn't remember if there had been any sign of a trap when he'd run out of the alley, if he had missed something that could have been avoided.

"Dammit," Sam groaned softly. He slid a hand across the seat to the driver's side and keenly missed his big brother's presence. He pulled his hand back, disgusted with his own weakness and stiffened as the count in his head reached twenty. "Come on, Dean." Sam rolled his window down and hoped to hear his brother coming but there was nothing, save for the quiet night and the chirping of crickets. "Come on, come on." He took out his cell phone and ran his fingers over it in his hand, debating and he made up his mind.

"Oh, this is a bad idea," Sam told himself as he found the handle and pushed his door open. He'd had Dean describe the street to him and the location of the house well enough that Sam had built a rough picture in his mind. He stood outside the car and eased the door closed and tried to find his bearings in the inky blackness of his world. "You can do this," Sam muttered and took a step away from the car. He grunted in pain as his foot caught on the curb he couldn't see and he went down to his hands and knees.

"Dammit!" Sam cursed and got unsteadily back to his feet. He faced in what he hoped was the direction of the house and started walking again. He picked his feet up higher than he normally would to avoid stumbling on anything else and listened. There were crickets, the distant sound of a television up too loud from somewhere, the sound of his sneakers brushing through the grass and… Sam froze. He heard the sound of a second set of feet moving swiftly through the grass and coming toward him. He tensed and raised his hands and nearly yelped when strong hands clamped down on his shoulders.

"What the fuck are you doin' out here?" Dean demanded as he reached his little brother and grabbed him. Sam was halfway across the lawn heading in the vague direction of the witch's house and looked lost.

"Jesus, Dean." Sam blew out a breath while his heart thundered and held onto Dean's arms. "What took you so long? I thought…" his voice trailed off as he realized there was warm, blood-wet fabric under his right fingers. "You're hurt!" Panic slammed into Sam. He'd left Dean to go in without backup and he'd been hurt in the process. "How bad? Dean, how bad is it?"

"Dammit, would you… knock it off!" Dean grabbed Sam's hands before he could tear the hole in his jacket sleeve even wider. "I'm fine, alright? It's nothing. Just a scratch."

"This is not a scratch! There's too much blood!" Sam tried to tug his hands free but Dean had firm hold of him. He wanted to scream with his inability to see how badly his brother had been wounded.

"Sam! Chill out! It's really not that bad!" Dean squeezed Sam's hands in his own and tried to make him calm down. "Won't even need stitches, ok? Sam, I swear. If it were that bad, we'd be going to an ER."

"You'd lie to me," Sam said uncertainly as he held onto Dean and listened to his calm, determined voice. "You would."

"Yeah, well, I'm not. I'm not hurt that bad." Dean rolled his eyes and let go of Sam's hands in favor of sliding an arm around his back to get him turned and walking toward the car. "It was a stupid damn trap. I should have seen the thing. Knife just grazed my arm is all. It's fine. Hurts like a bitch, but my insides are all still on the inside."

Sam put a hand out when Dean stopped him and felt the Impala in front of him. He gripped hold of the car and leaned forward until his forehead was resting on the roof. "Goddammit, Dean."

"I'm ok, Sammy," Dean said more softly than he meant to and rested a hand on Sam's back to let him know where he was.

Sam shook his head, rolling his forehead over the cool metal. "You don't get it. What if you'd really been hurt in there? What if you'd… I couldn't help you, Dean. You can't…" He straightened and turned, fisting his hands in his brother's jacket when they bumped into his chest. "No more stupid chances, ok? Not alone. Not until I get my sight back. Promise me. I can't do this again."

"Well, shit." Dean hung his head. He considered what it would have done to him if he'd been the one blinded and Sam had come back bloody and his heart about pounded out of his chest in imagined fear. "Ok, I'm sorry. Promise. No more dangerous crap 'til we get you fixed. Good?"

Sam nodded and swallowed. "Yeah." He took a deep breath and forced himself to take his hands away from his brother's chest. "So, did you find it?"

"I got it." Dean grinned and pulled open the passenger door. He tucked his brother's head inside, closed the door and jogged around the car. He glanced down at his bloody arm and bit his lip because it had been close. If he hadn't thrown himself backwards onto the stairs when he did, the array of knives that had flown out of the walls would have skewered him where he stood. He could thank his ingrained hunter reflexes for his life. He climbed in behind the wheel and wasn't surprised when his brother's hand inched across the seat until it was touching the hem of his jacket. As before, it didn't even occur to him to tease Sam about it. "All we gotta do is dig through this thing, find the hex, and we'll have you back to normal in no time, little brother."

Sam nodded but didn't say anything. He was still shaken knowing that Dean had been injured, frustrated that he couldn't see it for himself, and terrified that the witch's grimoire wouldn't give them the answer they needed. After all, when had Winchester luck ever worked that way?

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_- Somewhere in Devil's Lake, North Dakota…_

"What do you mean… blind?" Azazel snarled and wrapped his fingers in the blonde hair of a very unfortunate witch. He narrowed his yellow eyes at her and smiled. "And be very specific. When I asked you to check up on my favorite boy, it wasn't so you could accidentally blind him. Explain."

"I… I…" She gasped and swallowed hard. "You… you told me to use my sight to see him, to see where he was, and I… I did, but there was… something went wrong."

"Well, obviously, if little Sammy Winchester is blind. What. Did. You. Do?" Azazel punctuated each question with a vicious shake of her head. "Quickly now. I'm losing patience."

"There was another spell!" The witch cried out and held onto the demon's arm, trying to save herself pain. "I felt it when I looked into him! I'm sorry, master. I'm sorry!"

"So you're telling me that your vision broke his vision because of another spell," he said softly and angrily. "He can't see my visions anymore," Azazel said as if teaching a small child. "If he can't see my visions, he won't be ready when the day comes, and I am not going to lose my favorite before the prize fight even starts. Fix it."

"I can't!"

"Excuse me?" he growled and twisted the witch's head back so he could stare into her eyes. Azazel fisted his other hand around her throat and began to squeeze. "I don't believe I heard you properly."

"I… I meant that I…" The witch coughed and sucked in a gasp of air around Azazel's tightening grip. "… need to know what the spell was! If I fig… figure that out, I can… maybe I can… fix him!"

"Hearin' an awful lot of 'maybe' and 'if' coming out of your mouth, darlin'." Azazel squeezed her throat a little more tightly and made a tsking sound between his teeth. "You've got a day. Twenty-four hours to tell me how to fix Sam Winchester or your contract will be coming due a few years early." He pulled her up and placed a mocking, gentle kiss between her terrified eyes. "You don't want to know what we'll do to you if you lose me my favorite pawn."

She wheezed for breath when he released her and crumpled to the floor. "No, no, master. I'll… there's a w-way."

"Find it. Fast." Azazel turned from her and looked out over the lake spread before him. "Can't have you opting out of the festivities, Sammy. I've got big plans for you, son."

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Sam twisted his fingers together in his lap as he sat and listened to his brother in the bathroom. He wished he could bandage the cut for him. Hell, he wished he could see the damn thing and know if Dean was snowing him on just how severe it was. He was left blinking at nothing, at the darkness that was going to drive him mad. He chewed on his bottom lip when the shower turned off and decided he could still pull the little brother card and make sure Dean actually cleaned up his arm. He stood and turned toward where he knew the bathroom was. Sam reached out as he walked to find the handle and, as he reached where the door should have been, he heard it open and his hand slid onto bare, damp skin over firm muscle and Sam's brain screeched to a halt.

"Sammy?" Dean asked curiously and looked down at his brother's big hand spread wide across his lower stomach, just above the towel wrapped low around his hips. It sent a thrill of something new through his gut and he sucked in a breath in surprise.

"Uh…" Sam sputtered and was completely focused on the feel of his brother's stomach under his hand and the muscles shifting which each breath he took.

"You want the shower?" Dean asked in a voice gone hoarse as he tried to not let Sam know just how much the simple touch was affecting him. And how screwed up did that make him? Being turned on by your little brother's hand on your stomach? Yeah… seriously not normal, even in their admittedly messed up sense of the word.

"Huh?" Sam shook his head and snatched his hand away from Dean's stomach like it had been burnt. "Yeah, no, I uh… yeah."

Dean shook his head at the thunderstruck look on his brother's face and moved out of the way. Sam was obviously as confused as he was. "Bathroom. Dead ahead four paces." He watched Sam shuffle to the door and rubbed a hand over the spot on his stomach where Sam's hand had been pressed. "I'm, uh…. gonna go grab food while you're in there. Yes, I'll be careful."

"Ok." Sam managed a smile and found the door. "Try not to get lost." He closed the door behind him and then leaned against it as he blew out his breath and tried to calm down. Feeling Dean's stomach under his hand had been surreal and visceral, and if the painfully hard length of his cock stuffed in his jeans meant anything, a hell of a lot more arousing than it damn well should have been. "What the hell is wrong with me?" Sam asked himself softly and pulled off his shirts. He felt around for the counter and dropped them there before unbuckling his belt. He kicked off his jeans, keeping one hand on the counter to balance himself and ran a hand over his cock with a low moan.

"Jesus." Sam swallowed, shaking his head at himself and felt around until he found the shower. He was getting the hang of navigating the bathroom without his sight and had the water running easily as he stepped under the warming spray. He pulled the shower curtain closed and heard the door to the room bang closed; Dean on his way out for food. "Oh, thank God." Sam braced one hand and his head on the wall and hunched over as he fisted his cock. He needed to release the pressure and there just wasn't any alone time to do that with Dean taking such good care of him since his sight vanished. Yeah; maybe that was it. That could explain the instant arousal he'd felt at the mere touch of his brother's warm, wet skin. It had just been too long… He bit off a louder moan while his hand ran up and down his shaft and he squeezed under the head.

"Shit!" Sam spread his legs to give him better balance and took his other hand from the wall to slip around his hip and behind himself. The running water from the shower head sprayed down his back and sluiced between the cheeks of his ass where he ran his fingers as he fisted himself. "God, yes," Sam moaned and rubbed his fingers over his clenching hole with another, louder moan.

Dean stood frozen in the middle of the room with the sound of Sam moaning coming from the bathroom. He'd put his jeans on and realized the first aid kit was still in the car. Sam's voice had been the first thing he heard when he came back in and shut the door, and now he seemed unable to do anything; anything like move or let Sam know he had an audience. He let the first aid kit fall from his hand to the bed and palmed a hand over himself without really thinking about it. All the spit dried in his mouth, and Dean's cock gave a hard, almost painful jump in his pants when he heard Sam clearly moan his name.

"Holy fuck," Dean breathed and pressed his hand more firmly over his cock. He moved to the bathroom door in a daze and leaned against it, listening. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, but that didn't stop Dean from shoving a hand down the front of his jeans as Sam's noises grew in volume. He curled his fingers around his cock and bit his bottom lip to hold in a moan of his own. He could hear Sam panting above the spray of water, hear the desperate moans, and he wondered what his little brother was doing to himself to drive those noises out of him. He pointedly ignored the thought that immediately followed… that some fucked up part of him wished HE was the one doing whatever the hell it was.

Sam slid a finger inside himself as he stroked his cock and gasped out a moan. It'd been almost a week since he'd had enough alone time to himself to really enjoy it and God how he missed it. He twisted his shoulder to get his finger further into himself and chewed on his bottom lip to try and muffle the pleased cry when he found his sweet spot and pressed on it. In his mind was a vision of Dean, a parade of all the times over all the years that he'd seen Dean coming out of the bathroom in a towel, all the glimpses of him naked as he dressed, and the feel of Dean's wet skin under his fingers. Sam came suddenly on a shout of his brother's name and ground his forehead into the tiles while his cock pulsed in his hand.

Dean jerked back from the bathroom and yanked his hand out of his pants with Sam's shout. "Son of a bitch," he gasped and backed away. The wrong of it swirled sickly through him and he grabbed his shirt, the first aid kit and all but ran for the door, trying to forget the sound of his little brother coming with his name on his lips and just how much it made Dean want to walk in that bathroom and come with him.

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_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Fumbling in the Dark

**Author**: Wincesteriffic Kaz

**Info:** A spell steals something precious from Sam and leads to a revelation between the brothers. Set early season 2 Dean/Sam

**Author's Note:** I probably could have gone a whole nother chapter before getting to the naughty nookie but… my lovely roomie and fellow fanfic writer would likely have shaved me bald in my sleep. LOL Thank xwincesterx for the horizontal mambo here.

Graphic depictions within.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_**

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_Sam slid a finger inside himself as he stroked his cock and gasped out a moan. It'd been almost a week since he'd had enough alone time to himself to really enjoy it and God how he missed it. He twisted his shoulder to get his finger further into himself and chewed on his bottom lip to try and muffle the pleased cry when he found his sweet spot and pressed on it. In his mind was a vision of Dean, a parade of all the times over all the years that he'd seen Dean coming out of the bathroom in a towel, all the glimpses of him naked as he dressed, and the feel of Dean's wet skin under his fingers. Sam came suddenly on a shout of his brother's name and ground his forehead into the tiles while his cock pulsed in his hand._

_Dean jerked back from the bathroom and yanked his hand out of his pants with Sam's shout. "Son of a bitch," he gasped and backed away. The wrong of it swirled sickly through him and he grabbed his shirt, the first aid kit and all but ran for the door, trying to forget the sound of his little brother coming with his name on his lips and just how much it made Dean want to walk in that bathroom and come with him._

**Chapter 3**

Dean swerved the Impala off the road into an obliging field, turned off the engine, and then sat staring out the windshield at the moonlit grass. In his ears, he could still hear Sam's voice, hear it raised in passion, in need… shouting his name. "Jesus, I am so fucked up." He widened his legs to make room for his still painfully hard cock. He unbuckled his belt, pulled down the zipper and shoved his hand into his shorts.

"Goin' to hell," he muttered and dropped his head back as he started jacking his hand up and down the shaft of his cock. He needed the release and if thoughts of Sam were in his head, it was purely coincidental. He gasped, running the pad of his thumb over the slit and heard Sam's voice again. "Fuck!" Dean thrust up into his fist while his own rough breaths filled the car and he was coming embarrassingly fast. He rolled his hips up, fisting his cock as it spurted, moaned and gasped and panted through it while picturing Sam with the damn towel hitched just below his hipbones.

"Son of a… how did I get so screwed up?" Dean pulled his hand out and grabbed a rag from the floorboard to wipe the come from his hand. "How did WE," he amended, forced to acknowledge the fact that he was apparently far from alone in this whole thing. He grimaced at the large wet spot in his boxers and fastened his pants back up. A quick glance down at his left arm showed the slice from the witch's basement bleeding sluggishly again. "Dammit."

He pulled the first-aid kit over and pawed through it for a bandage. Dean quickly wrapped his wounded arm and then pulled his t-shirt on. He pushed away thoughts of Sam naked and whining with a shiver for the feeling it gave him. His brother was blind for fuck sake, and here he was wanting to lay him out and… Dean shook himself hard. "Get a grip, asshole!" He fired up the engine and pulled back out onto the road. It didn't matter what screwy thoughts were going through Sam's head to make him come with Dean's name on his lips. What mattered was how Dean handled it, and picturing your little brother begging you to come was not something that should ever be on Dean's list of things to do to take care of Sammy. He pushed the gas pedal to the floor and sped along the quiet road back into town for dinner and a slice of normalcy and pointedly did not think about Sam.

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Sam stood in the bathroom leaning on the sink counter and hated himself. How could he come thinking of his big brother? He raised his head and felt tears on his face at his inability to see himself or anything. He held a hand up in front of his face and choked back a sob because there was nothing but black; just the darkness.

"Oh, God," Sam groaned and bent over, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt unclean because of his thoughts about Dean and hopeless about the possibility of ever regaining his sight. This was going to be his life forever now, dark and alone. He swallowed back the tears and felt around for his clothes. "Suck it up, dammit," he said hoarsely and started the laborious process of pulling on his clothes. He got his boxers and sweat pants on and couldn't find his shirt and he growled with frustration.

"Fuck it," Sam said angrily and turned, fumbling for the door handle and pulled it open. "Dean?" he called but there was no answer. His brother wasn't back yet and Sam frowned. He'd been gone quite a while as Sam had spent more than the usual amount of time under the hot spray relieving some of his stress. "Damn. Where'd I leave my phone?" He tried to remember where he'd put it and took a few halting steps out into the room. It was incredibly disorienting to not be able to see the room. He'd only paid it the bare minimum of attention when they'd checked in, and he wished now he'd actually looked at it, taking it in and mapping everything out in his head. The list of things he took for granted being sighted was growing longer by the day.

Sam took another step and stopped as an odd, dizzy feeling swept through him. He frowned and a moment later, pain crashed through his skull. He cried out and staggered, crumpling to his knees as the pain became stronger. He could feel tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes burned, and still he could see nothing. It was like the aborted vision the day before, and he wondered suddenly if it could kill him as he rolled to the floor on his side and curled around his head. Distantly, he heard the sound of the door opening but couldn't focus on anything except the pain.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted when he walked in and saw his brother on the floor. In his mind, a myriad of horrifying possibilities played out, and he hated himself for staying away as long as he had. He dropped the bag of food on the floor as he knelt beside his brother and cursed himself for being a coward and staying out so long. "Sam, I'm here, buddy. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Dean took Sam's bare shoulder and tried to pull him over onto his back, but Sam was determined to stay in the fetal position. Dean frowned as he leaned over and saw the deep lines of pain etched in his brother's face. "Shit, another aborted vision like before?"

Sam managed one short nod and dug his fingers into his scalp to try and relieve the building pressure. He would have welcomed a vision at that point, even knowing he'd see someone else's death if only he could see anything at all. But as before, there was nothing; only darkness and mind-numbing pain, and he cried out again as it reached a new level and then left him gasping on the floor.

"Easy. Easy." Dean saw the moment the pain left him as Sam's body seemed to collapse in on itself. He cursed and pulled Sam gently up until he was leaning against his chest with his head under his chin. "I'm right here. You're ok. It's ok." All his carefully laid plans to stay at arm's reach from his brother fled before Sam in pain. There was nothing Dean wouldn't do to make that better, or try to.

Sam fisted a hand in Dean's t-shirt and tried to breathe around the overwhelming need to throw up. He didn't want to do that again. "S'ok," he whispered after a moment but made no move to uncurl from Dean's embrace. He listened to his big brother's heart beating under his ear and let it settle him; felt Dean's chest rising and falling as he breathed and used that to slow his own breathing.

"That's it. Keep breathin'. You're ok." Dean rubbed a hand in circles on Sam's back, feeling the shiver of leftover pain through his skin. "Sorry I took so long, man. I didn't mean to be gone so long. Got dinner, though." Dean snorted as he looked over at the bag on the floor. "It's a little shaken now." Sam groaned and he nodded with a smirk. "Right. No food for you. I don't wanna clean it up either." Sam started to move and Dean held on to him. "No, just sit for a minute more, dude. Wait 'til you're steadier."

Sam nodded and settled into Dean's embrace. As the pain left him and his brain started to function again, he realized how comforting it was to be held by Dean and how much he enjoyed the smell of him; not body odor, just the leather and gun oil smell that always seemed so uniquely Dean. He'd never paid a lot of attention to it consciously before, but now he was hyperaware of it and how safe it made him feel, like being bundled up in the backseat with his big brother when he was a kid. It felt like home.

"Dude, are you deep breathing or sniffing me?" Dean asked with a soft laugh as he looked down at Sam's shaggy head. He rubbed his hand briskly up Sam's arm. "You wanna try movin' to the bed now?"

"Yeah," Sam said softly and took hold of Dean's arms while his brother moved. "Not too fast. Don't wanna hurl again."

"Got it. Trust me." Dean stood slowly, bringing Sam up with him as gently as he could until finally he was standing with his head ducked down and resting on Dean's shoulder. "Ok, bed. Come on."

Sam let Dean steer him across the room and felt the side of the bed against the back of his legs a moment later. He sat with Dean's guidance and then slumped over to hang his head in his hands. "God, that sucks."

"Yeah." Dean sat beside him and blew out a breath. "I'll go through the witch's grimoire in a minute here. I'll find something and Bobby and I'll get you back to normal. Promise."

"Don't," Sam said suddenly and lifted his head miserably. "Don't promise me. You can't know that yet, and I can't…" he sighed and shook his head, closing his useless eyes. "I just don't want to get my hopes up anymore." He rubbed his fingers over his closed eyes and thought of all things he might never see again, and chief among them - and most painful - was Dean. He missed seeing his brother; his stupid spikey hair that he insisted he never put gel in, his ridiculous plump lips that always seemed to beg for a kiss, and even Dean's girly eyelashes. Perhaps he missed those most of all, seeing them when Dean drove and the sun would hit them just right so they would glow in a golden fan over his eyes. Sam sighed painfully… Dean's green eyes. A tear fell unnoticed down his face with the knowledge he might never be able to actually look into those amazing eyes ever again; like warm grass on a summer day, Sam always thought.

"Sammy?" Dean reached over and brushed a tear from his little brother's cheek with his thumb. "What's goin' on?"

Sam shook his head and spoke in a voice tight with grief. "Nothing."

"Right." Dean said softly and looked down to find one of Sam's hands picking at the hem of his t-shirt. He didn't think Sam was even aware he was doing it and that somehow made it all the more meaningful. "It's gonna be alright, Sam. No matter what, it's gonna be ok. You just gotta trust me."

Sam nodded, too choked up to speak and then turned on impulse. He threw his arms around Dean, bumping him with his elbow and finally managed to get his arms around him.

"Hey, hey. Sammy." Dean sighed, shook his head and wrapped his arms around his brother in defeat. How could he refuse Sam anything with what he was going through? He felt Sam shiver and held him tighter, trying to impart some body heat to his shirtless little brother. Unbidden came the memory of Sam's voice from the shower, the sounds of him coming and Dean tensed.

"Dean?" Sam asked hoarsely, feeling the slight but noticeable change in his brother's posture, but didn't release his hold. It felt good to be held by him; and more, it felt exciting for reasons Sam knew were wrong clinically but realistically weren't making much sense to him anymore. How could it be wrong to love someone as much as he loved Dean and, truthfully, always had? He tilted his head up, feeling Dean's jaw slide down his tender forehead. He felt the brush of his big brother's lips over the end of his nose and Sam went with instinct and need. He opened his mouth and caught Dean's lips against his own in a light, barely-there kiss that sent sparks shooting through him. The feel of those soft, plush lips he'd always watched brushing against his own, warm and wet was enough to have Sam squirming with need in his arms.

Dean froze. He was caught with Sam's warm lips against his own and for a moment couldn't decide what to do, how to react. His brother's intent was clear. There was no mistaking the way Sam's arms tightened around him, the tremble in his body or the soft gasp of air that brushed his mouth as Sam breathed. Dean closed his eyes and just for a second, allowed himself. He pressed his lips more firmly into Sam's and brazenly darted his tongue out to lick along them, all while the insanity of what he was doing ran in circles through his mind. He didn't miss the needy moan that Sam gave him with the brush of his tongue, and it made Dean bold. He slid a hand into the back of Sam's hair and fisted his fingers in the soft, damp locks as he deepened the kiss and Sam pushed more impatiently against him seeking even more.

"God," Dean breathed into his brother's mouth and then his eyes flew open. "Oh, God!" Shocked at himself, Dean pushed Sam away and lurched up off the bed. "What the fuck are we doing? What the fuck am I doing?"

Sam lost his balance as Dean's body vanished and he slid to the floor onto his knees with a thump. "Dean?" He asked in a wavering, fearful voice because what the hell was he thinking? He kissed his brother and any moment now, Dean would surely beat him for it. But then Sam frowned into the darkness because Dean had kissed him back. Not just kissed him back, but made it more, had thrust his tongue along Sam's lips and into his mouth. He brought his hand up and ran his fingers over lips that still tingled from the contact and desperately wished again that he could see Dean's face.

"Jesus." Dean backed away from the bed and his brother, looking down at Sam on the floor and stared at him. "Sam, this is fucked up. Even for us, this is… what the fuck? I can't…" Dean paced away from him and looked at the room door, feeling the need to escape and get as far away as possible from whatever this thing between them was.

Sam heard Dean's footsteps moving away heavily toward the door and panic blew through him. "Dean! Don't!" He used the bed and rushed to his feet, swaying as his lack of sight made his balance waiver and stretched his hands out toward where he hoped Dean was. "Not like this. Don't walk out! God, Dean, don't please! I won't… I promise, I…" Sam swallowed hard around the lump of fear in his throat. "I'm sorry, ok? Just… just can we forget it? It didn't happen. I'm sorry. Don't leave!" 'Don't leave me alone' hung unspoken in the air between them.

Dean watched the emotions flow over his little brother's face, fear and sadness chief among them, and hated himself a little more for putting them there. Sam truly believed that Dean was just going to walk out and leave him alone and blind because of what they had done. "I'm not leaving, Sam. Ok? I wouldn't do that. I'd never do that." He dropped heavily into the chair at the table so Sam would hear him, and he watched his brother's sightless eyes roll around the room fearfully before following the sound in his direction. "This is wrong, Sammy. You're… we're brothers for fuck sake."

Sam lowered his arms, weak with relief that Dean wasn't going to walk out on him. He sat back carefully on the edge of the bed and tried to calm down. "Why is it wrong?" he finally asked softly once he had the storm of emotions more under control. "I mean, really… why?"

"You crack your head when I wasn't looking?" Dean asked in surprise. "Brothers, Sam. Never mind the whole two guys thing. Not that I got a problem with that."

Sam snorted. His brother's sexual exploits were well known to him, and, thanks to Dean's love of boasting, he was well aware he'd had partners of both sexes over the years. He swallowed and tried to put order to the feelings inside him. "I know we're brothers but… we've only ever had each other, you know? And, yeah, I know it's supposed to be wrong, but why, really? I mean, it's not like we're gonna have three-headed babies or something."

"Pretty sure there's laws against it, genius." Dean rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know what the hell's goin' on with us, Sammy, but this can't happen."

Sam slumped down, putting his head in his hands and nodded miserably. He'd expected as much, really. Even as a teenager, when he'd first had less than pure thoughts about Dean, he'd known never to even mention it. Never mind what Dean would have said; their father would have likely killed him. "Ok," he whispered and tried not to choke on the lump of regret in his throat.

Dean watched him and could see it all, the pain and misery that was folding around Sam with his rejection, and the more he thought about it, the less insane it all seemed. They had never lived their lives by standards that other people called 'normal' or that society deemed 'appropriate". They hunted monsters for fuck sake and battled demons and dug up graves. And then there was the credit card fraud, impersonating federal agents and cops and whatever the hell else they needed, breaking and entering, hustling for cash… There were laws against all of that too. Dean stared down at his feet and began to understand just how Sam saw them. They belonged to each other, laws and society be damned. "Christ, Sammy we are some kinda screwed up," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly and for the first time, he was glad that he couldn't see Dean's face. He didn't want to see the disgust that was no doubt there.

Sam wanted this; that was very clear to Dean. And if he was honest with himself, there was a part of him that had wanted it for a very long time. He'd just spent half their lives ignoring it. He rose and went to the bed to kneel in front of his brother. "Sammy." Sam jumped when Dean slid his hands tentatively onto his knees and up to rest over his thighs. "I'm the one who's sorry."

"What?" Sam asked in confusion and looked down at Dean's hands on him, though he couldn't see it. "Dean…"

"I think… maybe… you're right." Dean rubbed this thumbs back and forth, watching the motion, contemplating the feel of Sam's muscles under his hands and found that he liked it… a lot, especially as they began to quiver in reaction. "You're not the only who's thought about this shit. I mean us. You and me, like… fuck, I hate talking." Impulsively, he lunged up and caught Sam's mouth with his again.

Sam couldn't stop the soft moan of want from bubbling up out of his throat as Dean kissed him, and this time there was no hesitation, only Dean licking into his mouth like he belonged there, and, Sam thought, he did. He dug his fingers into his brother's shirt, desperate for the contact and then slid his hands up the column of Dean's neck until he could feel his jaw moving, flexing with the kiss. He was left panting for breath by the time Dean finally pulled back enough to rest their foreheads together. "Dean. God."

Dean nodded and licked his lips while he stared at Sam's kiss-swollen mouth and wanted to bite his lips cherry red. He pushed that desire down and leaned back enough to look at Sam again because he had to be sure. "Do you really want this, Sammy?" he asked softly and brushed his fingers along his brother's strong jaw affectionately. "I mean me?" Dean frowned a little. "You don't even like dudes."

Sam shook his head. "I, uh… I do. Well, I mean, I like…" Sam blew out an embarrassed breath and decided he may as well be completely honest for once. "Do you know what pegging is?"

Dean snorted a laugh. "Dude, it's me. Of course I know what pegging… wait." Dean leaned back a little further while his eyes widened in surprise as he looked at Sam's reddening face. "Are you tellin' me that Jess… You and Jess. She used to… to you… with a dildo?"

"Shuddup, alright? Yes." Sam ground out and would have pulled away in shame if not for Dean's hands around his head. "I always… every time, I always thought of you when… just, yeah."

"Holy fuck," Dean breathed with that mental image slamming into his head and stealing his breath while his cock gave a jump of interest in his jeans. "That is… wow." He grinned at his brother's flushed face and leaned back to bite his bottom lip. "Really… fuckin'… hot, Sammy. Damn."

Sam felt a smile spread over his face while Dean ravaged his lips. "Yeah?"

"Hell, yeah." Dean let his hands slide down Sam's back over his warm skin, reveling in the sensation of touching him, really touching him in a way he'd never allowed himself to entertain outside of dreams. He chuckled when Sam grabbed his shirt and pulled it up his back. He ducked his head so Sam could pull his shirt off. He knelt up on his knees and wrapped his arms around Sam's back so he could press their chests together. The feeling of bare skin pressed to skin made Dean moan into Sam's mouth.

"God, Dean." Sam felt giddy, lightheaded now that he had Dean wrapped in his arms. He smoothed his hands down his brother's back, feeling all the skin over taut muscle and shivered in reaction. "Feel so good."

Dean nodded and pushed Sam back on the bed so he was lying across it with his feet on the floor. "Wanted to do this for so long," he murmured as he pulled his fingers in a slow glide down Sam's chest and across the fluttering muscles of his stomach to the band of his sweatpants.

"Fuck," Sam breathed and threw his head back with Dean's fingertips making a maddening trail down his body. It was somehow even more overwhelming unable to see Dean or know what he would do next. He felt his brother tug at his sweats and had a moment of shyness, worried about Dean seeing him naked and finding he didn't want him after all.

"Shh." Dean soothed and put a hand over Sam's heart on his chest. He could read the expression on his little brother's face and knew what he was thinking. "You're beautiful, Sammy." He said it softly, reverently as he tugged the sweats down his brother's hips with his other hand and freed his cock. His mouth watered and he was a little in awe that he could do this. "Fuckin' gorgeous."

Sam's back arched on a cry as he felt Dean's hand rub up his cock and then wrap around it in a firm hold. "Dean! Oh, God, yes!" He cried out again when Dean's fingers pinched gently at one of his nipples and gasped. "Thought about this… about you… so much!"

"Yeah?" Dean leaned down and licked a striped up Sam's stomach, smiling as his little brother trembled beneath him and thrust up into his hand again. "What've you thought about, baby boy?"

"Oh, God." Sam moaned brokenly at that and brought his hands up, searching for Dean's head and found it. He tunneled his fingers into Dean's short hair and held on. "You… inside me. Fuck, please, Dean?" He felt Dean's forehead thump into his collarbone and Dean's hand tightened around his cock. "That a yes?"

"Fuck yes," Dean growled and tilted his head up to bite at Sam's jaw. "Don't go anywhere." It should be terrifying, he thought as he forced himself to leave Sam spread on the bed and go to his bag. The thought of having this sort of relationship with his brother was supposed to sicken him, and yet it simply felt right as he pulled the lube out of the pocket and went back to Sam. He knelt on the floor between his brother's legs and blew a warm breath up his cock and watched it twitch in reaction with a grin. He set the lube on the bed and wrapped his hands around Sam's thighs so he could pull him forward until his hips were just resting at the edge.

"Jesus, Dean." Sam wished he could see his brother between his legs and shouted as he felt the warm, wet heat of Dean's mouth close around the head of his cock. He curled up towards his brother and felt frantically for his head or shoulders, needing to touch him. Sam found Dean's head and ran his fingers down the side of his face until he could feel Dean's plush lips stretched around his cock. Sam fell off his elbow to his back with a loud groan and barely resisted the urge to thrust up into it. "Gonna kill me."

Dean hummed and closed his eyes to savor the taste and sensation of Sam in his mouth. Sam wasn't small, and Dean wrapped the fingers of one hand around his base to hold him while he worked to swallow around him.

"Shit!" Sam yelled and lost himself in the feel of Dean's mouth and the muscles of his throat working around the head of his cock. It was almost too much sensation. He was so lost in how it felt, it took a moment for him to realize there were slick fingers rubbing gently around his entrance. "Oh, my… Dean." Sam nearly sobbed as he felt a first finger press and slide inside him. He'd imagined it so many times, Dean's fingers instead of his own, and to have the reality of it now was nearly more than he could stand.

Dean pushed a finger into his brother and popped his mouth off his cock to stare down. He groaned desperately as his fingers found Sam already more open than he should be. "Fuck. That's what you were doin' in the shower. Holy crap, Sammy."

Sam gave a breathless gasp in surprise. "The shower, but… you were gone!"

Dean shook his head against Sam's thigh and looked up the length of his body at him. He eased a second finger and then a third into Sam slowly. "Came back," he said in a gravelly, needy voice while Sam's muscles fluttered around his fingers. "Heard you. Jesus, did I hear you. Almost made me come in my damn jeans."

"Dean. Dean please." Sam reached down and found the top of his brother's head again. "Need you now. I don't… I don't wanna wait anymore. I'm ready."

Dean nodded and slowly eased his fingers out of his brother. "Yeah, you are," he whispered. He shucked himself out of his jeans quickly and ran his hands up Sam's chest as he bent over to kiss him again. "Get on your knees for me, baby boy?"

"Fuck yes." Sam groaned and rolled, letting Dean guide his legs so he didn't kick him as he rolled and knelt on his hands and knees. Another time, Sam would have argued to stay facing Dean so he could see his brother's face but that was no longer an option for him. It wilted his erection a little, that knowledge, and he lowered his head while he tried to push the sadness back.

"I gotcha, Sammy." Dean smoothed his hands over the round cheeks of his brother's ass and marveled at how beautiful he was, how willing, and how Sam was finally his after so damn long. "I've got you," and he meant more than just the sex; he meant everything.

Sam swallowed around the lump of fierce emotion in his throat while Dean's hands roamed reverently over his back and nodded. "I know," he whispered. "I know, Dean." He ducked his head again and bit his bottom lip as he felt the slick head of Dean's cock suddenly pressing against his hole. "Please, please, please."

"Fuck, Sammy." Dean's voice was hoarse. "Think I like it when you beg. Damn." He pushed as gently as he was capable of until the head of his cock slid inside his brother. Dean curled over Sam's back with a low groan. "Oh, man. Oh, God."

Sam nodded, bereft of speech as Dean slowly filled him an inch at a time. It burned with pain, but it was the right sort of pain and stole his breath as Dean split him open until his hips were flush with Sam's ass. He moaned and felt tears on his face as Dean wrapped an arm around his chest and held onto him. "Dean, oh my God."

"You ok?" Dean asked and rubbed his thumb back and forth over Sam's sternum as he held his trembling brother. "Sammy?"

In response, Sam pushed his hips back trying to take Dean even deeper. "Move." He ordered and felt Dean's laugh through their bodies where Dean was connected to him.

"Pushy, Sammy." Dean grinned, sucked in a breath and pulled slowly out until only the head of his cock was still inside his brother. He held firmly to Sam's hip and thrust back inside, hard enough to move Sam against his arm and earned a near howl of pleasure from him.

"Holy shit, there! Right there, Dean!" Sam was astounded that Dean had somehow found his prostate on the first try. It'd taken Sam days to find his sweet spot himself the first time but his big brother just seemed to innately know where it was.

"Next time… you finger yourself… wanna watch," Dean grunted out between thrusts of his hips against Sam's and grinned when Sam whimpered in agreement under him. His mind was blown as he thrust cock in and out of his little brother. Nothing had ever felt this amazing before. No woman had ever made him have to fight so hard not to come like a teenager, but with Sam… Dean was already gritting his teeth, wanting to make it as amazing for Sam as it already was for him.

"Oh, fuck. Dean, so good." Sam cried out with a particularly hard and perfectly aimed thrust to his sweet spot. "Feels so… so good. Gonna come!"

"Yeah. Do it, Sammy. That's it." Dean strengthened his thrusts so that only his arm around Sam's chest was keeping his brother from collapsing to the bed. He felt Sam's muscles surrounding his cock as they began to spasm and the stuttering roll of Sam's hips against his own. "Come on my cock, baby. Come for me."

Sam shouted. If he'd been able to see, he was sure his vision would have whited out from the sheer magnitude of the pleasure that rolled through him. He felt his cock jerk and pulse, felt his own come splash up onto his stomach and his body rolled in shuddering waves while Dean's strong arm kept him up off the bed. "Dean!"

"God," Dean breathed in awe, watching Sam rock and shudder, jerk and cry out under him. He tightened his arm and pressed Sam's back into his chest as the muscles inside his brother clamped down around him so tightly he could barely move. It was enough. Dean came on a bellow of his little brother's name, his back bowed over the top of him, and he dug his teeth into the bend of Sam's shoulder.

Sam cried out as Dean bit his neck and it wrung another small orgasm from him until finally, they both collapsed to the bed, spent and gasping for breath. He didn't even care that Dean's weight was crushing him to the damp blanket. He wanted to wrap the feeling around himself, hold onto it and never let go.

Dean moved after several minutes of relearning how to breathe. He slid gently out of his brother and then slid off to the side. He rolled to his back and pulled Sam with him. "Hey, Sammy. You alright?"

Sam nodded and moved sluggishly until he was half-sprawled on his brother's chest. He smiled. "So much better than alright." He savored the feeling of Dean's hand passing up and down his back in a soothing, loving gesture and spread his own palm over Dean's heart to feel it beat. "Dean?"

"Yeah." Dean sighed and tightened his arm around Sam's sweaty back comfortably.

"Are you gonna freak out about this later?" Sam asked, suddenly serious and worried. It was the sort of thing Dean would do - leap first and hate himself for it later. He didn't want that to happen, not this time. He needed Dean to be alright with them like this.

Dean thought about it for a moment before answering. "I dunno. Maybe." Dean looked down at Sam's sightless eyes, blew out a breath and pulled him closer until he could tuck Sam's head under his chin. "No, Sammy. I'm not gonna freak out, ok? We're good. This?" Dean squeezed Sam's arm and put his other hand into that silky hair to card through it. "You and me? We never gave a damn what anyone thought anyway." He snorted a soft, happy laugh. "Hell, we've only ever been able to count on each other, and I figure this is just our kind of normal and fuck what anyone else thinks."

Sam slumped into his brother in amazed relief and picked his head up, turning it toward Dean's voice. "I, uh… I love you, you know?"

Dean grinned and leaned his head up to kiss Sam softly before answering. "I know, Sammy. I love you too. Just don't expect me to break the ovaries out and say it all the time. You know me."

Sam was surprised into a laugh and settled back into his brother's embrace, not caring that they were a sweaty mess or that he had come beginning to cake to his skin. "Yeah, I know you. Wouldn't want you any other way."

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_To Be Continued… _


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Fumbling in the Dark

**Author**: Wincesteriffic Kaz

**Info:** A spell steals something precious from Sam and leads to a revelation between the brothers. Set early season 2 Dean/Sam

**Author's Note:** This chapter was held up by the annual Fandom Author's Note convention here for writers and readers of fan fiction. :D I won two awards and the local paper even ran a story on us! Hope you all weren't suffering too badly while waiting and I hope this chapter will help soothe those frayed nerves! :P

Graphic depictions within.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_**

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_Dean looked down at Sam's sightless eyes, blew out a breath and pulled him closer until he could tuck Sam's head under his chin. "No, Sammy. I'm not gonna freak out, ok? We're good. This?" Dean squeezed Sam's arm and put his other hand into that silky hair to card through it. "You and me? We never gave a damn what anyone thought anyway." He snorted a soft, happy laugh. "Hell, we've only ever been able to count on each other and I figure this is just our kind of normal and fuck what anyone else thinks."_

_Sam slumped into his brother in amazed relief and picked his head up, turning it toward Dean's voice. "I uh… I love you, you know?"_

_Dean grinned and leaned his head up to kiss Sam softly before answering. "I know, Sammy. I love you __too__. Just don't expect me to break the ovaries out and say it all the time. You know me."_

_Sam was surprised into a laugh and settled back into his brother's embrace, not caring that they were a sweaty mess or that he had come beginning to cake to his skin. "Yeah, I know you. Wouldn't want you any other way."_

**Chapter 4**

Sam felt along the outside of the motel, taking careful, measured steps as he went. He breathed deep of the morning air and felt he sun on his face. He'd woken with Dean draped over him, the blanket-hogging big spoon in the too-tiny bed. He smiled, still finding it hard to believe that he and Dean had actually made love. He'd almost woken Dean with him to find out if morning sex was as mind-blowing as the night had been, but, in the end, Sam's need for fresh air had won out. It was a little suffocating being blind, seeing nothing and needing Dean around all the time to help him with the most mundane tasks, and that morning he'd felt the need to do something for himself. So he'd risen, found a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that felt tight enough to be Dean's and had made for the door. He'd just take a short walk along the outside of the building and be back before his brother woke.

Sam counted each room door he passed, keeping a mental note so that he could pick the right room when he went back. He reached the corner of the building and stopped, too leery of walking into traffic to leave the dubious comfort of the night-cooled bricks behind. The sun hadn't been up long enough to warm them yet, and Sam let his fingers splay over the rough texture while the breeze blew through his hair. "Better," Sam whispered and took in another deep breath.

It wasn't that he wanted to get away from Dean. He didn't. He just wanted five minutes to himself where he didn't feel so damn useless... helpless. If this wasn't something they could fix – his mind balked a bit at the thought, but he forced himself to finish it - he knew he would have to start being able to function on his own again. Sam wiggled his bare toes on the cold concrete and just listened to the morning around him. He could hear someone's little boy back along the motel yelling at his father and cars passing on the street nearby. There was the smell of something barbecuing in the air that made his stomach rumble with hunger and the distant, mourning whistle of a train. He tried to picture it; this life without sight, what it would be like to spend the rest of his life in the dark and completely reliant on sound, smell, and touch for everything. He smiled softly; there were some things that his sense of touch was just fine for as he remembered the feel of Dean's face under his hand while they kissed.

Sam turned around, putting his right hand on the wall rather than his left and started back along the building. He could think of a much better way to spend the morning and work up more of an appetite.

"Sammy!"

Dean's frantic voice snapped Sam's head up and he groaned. "Crap. Here, Dean!" Sam called and heard quick, bare footsteps racing down the sidewalk toward him. He wasn't surprised when his arms were taken and he was given a shake. "Morning."

"Morning? Are you shitting me?" Dean asked angrily and shook him again. "I wake up and you're nowhere. The door wasn't closed all the damn way and – Jesus, Sam!"

Sam's mouth fell open as he realized what it must have looked like; like someone had nabbed him in the middle of the night. "Shit, Dean. I'm sorry. I didn't think!"

"Obviously! Fuck!" Dean swallowed hard, still quaking with fear for his missing, blind little brother and pulled Sam into a hug. He held on tight and tried to calm his breathing. "Don't you do that to me again. Dammit, Sam."

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Sam let his hands slide down Dean's bare back at the same moment he heard a shocked squeal from a woman behind them. "Uh… Dean? You're naked, aren't you?"

"Yep. Oh, don't look so shocked, sister." Dean said to the women who had squealed from behind them. He grinned. "You know you'd pay to see this grade-A man flesh anywhere else."

"Oh, my God, Dean. Shut up." Sam laughed and gave him a push. "Room. Now. God, you're such a child sometimes." He turned his head in the general vicinity of where he thought the woman was. "Sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."

Dean chuckled and led Sam down the building to their room. "I kinda had other things on my mind when I woke up than finding my damn underwear.

"Don't scar that kid, please?" Sam asked with a laugh.

"What kid? Oh!" Dean slapped a hand over his crotch as he spotted a young boy several rooms down from theirs and then stopped, staring. "Did you see him?"

Sam shook his head, his good humor fumbling. "No. I heard him."

"Right." Dean sighed and led Sam into their room, then closed the door. "It'll come back, Sam. Now com'ere." He grabbed his brother and toppled them both back onto the bed. "Almost breakfast time. I need a bigger appetite."

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Azazel stood across the street from the Winchesters' motel. He watched Sam, feeling for a moment as though he were watching over a favored pet while the youngest Winchester made his careful way down the building. He saw a man down the street eyeing Sam speculatively and briefly considering watching to see how a blind Sam would handle being mugged but opted against it. Sam hadn't had long enough without his sight to become an effective fighter and would most likely end up grievously wounded or dead. Azazel raised a single finger and a moment later, two men burst from a building to sweep the would-be mugger up and out of sight silently.

He smirked and put his attention back on Sam. Azazel curled his lip when Dean appeared, but then his brows flew up his forehead as he watched the elder Winchester wrap Sam into an embrace that was anything but innocent, not to mention the possessive way Sam's hands slid down his brother's naked back. Clearly there were a few things Daddy Winchester had failed to notice before he made his deal for Dean's life. And didn't that just make things interesting?

"Master."

"What?" Azazel didn't look away until Dean had taken his brother back into their motel room and vanished from sight. He looked down at the smaller man, the demon, and waited.

"Master, the witch says she may have a way." The demon gave a small bow, leery of incurring Azazel's wrath. He'd seen the aftermath of far too many victims of the demon's anger.

"May have?" Azazel sneered. He glanced up at the sky briefly. "She has five hours left, after which I'm going to turn her into a marionette with her own intestines while she watches. She'd better have something better than 'may have'. Fine. Let's go."

"And the Winchesters?" The demon asked with a speculative look across to the motel. "Should we do anything?"

"No. Leave them be. It's not time yet." Azazel dismissed the motel and started up the street. "Let's go see what our little witch has for us."

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Sam held the phone to his ear and leaned back in his seat in the diner. "Bobby, please tell me you're calling because you found something."

Bobby smiled sadly to himself. "Not yet, Sam. I'm sorry. I haven't given up though and neither should you. Short of death, this spell crap's almost never permanent. I just gotta figure out how to purge it from you."

"You make it sound like a disease," Sam said softly and listened for his brother's footsteps returning from the restroom while he spoke.

"More like the flu," Bobby said with a small laugh. "And I just need to find the right vaccine. You're gonna see again, Sam. I'm sure of it. Now, how you boys doin'? Dean takin' care of you?"

Sam coughed around his coffee with a smile and carefully set the cup down. "Yeah. Yeah, Bobby. He's… taking real good care of me."

"Good. Tell that idjit to call me later an' I might have somethin'." Bobby smiled. "Try to relax, son. We'll figure this out."

"Thanks, Bobby. I will." Sam flipped his phone closed and put it back in his pocket as he heard Dean's distinctive steps approach. "Bobby called."

Dean slid into the booth opposite his brother and smiled. "He find anything?"

Sam shook his head. "Not yet. Wanted to know if you were taking care of me, though." He could picture the cheeky grin on his big brother's face and knew he was right when he heard him laugh.

"Yeah, we're not ever tellin' Bobby just how well I'm takin' care of you." Dean grinned and shook his head, a little horrified at the idea. He leaned back in his seat and kept the sigh to himself. Not that he wasn't enjoying his downtime with Sam, and more so now than he ever had before given the new facet of their relationship, but he was unused to so much time spent in one place without a job. He was itching to find something to hunt, but after the witch's house the day before, there was no way he'd be doing that again until Sam was better. "What do you wanna do today?"

Sam shrugged and his misery returned. All his favorite things required his eyesight - or the ability to read Braille. "I don't know. I mean… I really don't know what to do with myself." He blew out a breath. "I can't read or research. I can't even watch tv, and, dude, that is not as fun as you think it is."

"Aw, come on. Fat Albert's funnier without lookin' at the screen," Dean said with a grin and a laugh that quickly faltered in the face of the miserable look on his brother's face. "Ok, you're right. I know it sucks. You just have to make do until we get your sight back. And we _will_ get your sight back, Sammy. I know it."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked softly and felt his brother's foot nudge up against his under the table in a show of support.

"'Cause I'm me." Dean shook his head and did something he didn't think he'd ever do; he reached across the table and took one of Sam's hands, folding it in both of his own and gave it a squeeze. He wouldn't have thought he'd ever make a public display of affection like that, but Sam had a knack for crossing all his lines like other people breathed, and there was nothing Dean wouldn't do to make him feel better, or try to. "You know I'm a glass-half-empty kinda guy, Sammy, but I'm tellin' ya. This is gonna be fixed. You, me, and Bobby are gonna figure this out because you will not be stuck like this forever. I feel it in my gut."

Sam knew his eyes must be blown wide behind his sunglasses. He couldn't believe Dean was actually holding his hand in public. For his big brother to do something like that in front of witnesses meant he believed what he was saying and wanted Sam to believe it too. "Ok." He nodded and gave his brother a smile. "I trust you and your questionable judgment."

"Questionable?"

"That waitress in El Paso last year? Yeah. Questionable."

"Dude, how was I supposed to know she was a he? Did you _see_ his legs?" Dean laughed at the disgusted look on Sam's face and squeezed his hand once more before letting it go. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Sam asked and slid out of the booth, feeling Dean's hand on his elbow as he gained his feet.

"We're gonna be normal people for a day." Dean smiled and led the way out of the diner with Sam at his shoulder.

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Sam leaned back into his brother's chest and sighed deeply, tilting his face up to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. "Ok. This does not suck." He felt Dean's chuckle through his back and rubbed his hands along Dean's thighs where they were spread out on either side of his hips.

Dean grinned and adjusted his back against the tree. He looked out at the little park and knew he'd made the right call. Sam felt more relaxed than he had since his sight had vanished, and he had to admit, it was nice to just sit and be normal for a little while, or as normal as they got. "You want another beer?" He'd found them a secluded spot, screened by bushes, and let Sam use him as a backrest. It was comfortable and maybe crossing his line for chick-flick moments but he was enjoying it.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, please." It felt good to relax with his brother, even if he couldn't see anything. It was just cool enough that the warmth from his brother's chest kept him from shivering, and he couldn't believe Dean was allowing him to all but cuddle in public. "What's this place look like?"

"Trees. Bushes. Little pond." Dean snorted and looked out over the water. "Ok, big pond, and there's a couple bored looking ducks out there." He put a fresh beer in Sam's hand and slid his own around his little brother's waist, letting his fingers glide under his shirt to rest against bare skin. "We're pretty much on our own right here except for the ducks." It was still new territory, being able to touch Sam like this, and Dean smiled as he felt his brother shiver under his touch as his fingers slipped beneath the top of his jeans and brushed the fine hair on Sam's lower stomach. "No one to see us."

Sam let his head tip back onto Dean's shoulder and smiled. "I like that." He moaned softly when he felt Dean unbuckling his belt and stiffened. "Dean…"

"It's just us," Dean reassured him and pulled his brother's jeans open, sliding a hand down until he could palm Sam through his boxer-briefs.

"And the ducks… guh," Sam grunted and let his mouth fall open as Dean's hand curled around his shaft through thin fabric. "Oh, God."

Dean pulled Sam's hips back a little further into the vee of his legs and stroked him slowly. "And you were worried I was gonna freak out."

Sam gave a breathless laugh and nodded, rolling his head over to seek Dean's lips with his own. "Don't know what I was thinking." He smiled when Dean's plush lips brushed over his own and opened his mouth in invitation as Dean's tongue licked across them. "Mmm."

"Taste good, Sammy." Dean muttered into his brother's mouth and kissed him, licking inside along his teeth until Sam was panting. He gave long, sure strokes to Sam's cock so his brother's hips were jumping, pushing up into his hand of their own accord while Sam whimpered prettily for him. "So goddamn hot like this."

Sam let his head fall back to Dean's shoulder again while his brother stroked him and gasped in a breath. "Want… want you in me." He bit his bottom lip, imagining the park in his head. "We alone?"

Dean groaned and tightened his grip on Sam's cock. "Alone enough. Come on. Come're." He pushed at Sam's hip so his brother moved and Dean started shoving his pants down his legs while Sam staggered and turned around.

Sam chuckled, feeling Dean's hands tugging at his pants and reached out to steady himself, finding Dean's shoulders. "Anxious?"

"To get in that ass? Hell, yeah," Dean growled and pulled Sam across his lap once he had his pants off. It was broad daylight and anyone could walk around the little screen of bushes to see them, and he didn't damn well care as Sam's weight settled in his lap. He slid his fingers down the cleft of his brother's ass and groaned again as he found his hole. "Don't have lube."

Sam leaned down, sliding his face through Dean's hair until he reached his ear and smiled as he thought about what they'd done after a naked Dean had gotten him back in their room earlier. "Still open from you this morning."

"Holy shit." Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and shuddered. He let go and leaned back enough to get his belt and jeans open and then lifted them both for a moment as he shoved them down until his cock was free. "So damn hot, Sam. Jesus."

Sam leaned up and felt Dean's cock slide back between his legs and along his ass. "Fuck, yes." He spread his legs wider around his brother's hips and tightened his hands in Dean's shirt. "Wish I could see you."

Dean leaned up and caught Sam's lips with his own at the whispered plea and kissed him again. "I know. You will." He cupped his hands around Sam's ass and pulled gently. "Promise."

Sam moaned as Dean's cock pressed against his entrance. He bit his bottom lip and sank down, taking Dean inside him in a burn of pleasure-pain that made his eyes cross. "God." If he was honest with himself, it gave him a little thrill to think that someone could see them, could watch Dean fucking his little brother, and Sam tried not to look too hard at that thought. The 'wrong' of it did something for him.

"Fuck, Sammy." Dean moaned along with him as he slid inside all that tight heat. He could feel lube from earlier and some of himself that he'd left behind and that gave him a rush knowing that Sam had been walking around with Dean still inside him. He let Sam set the pace as his little brother pushed down, taking him deep inside until he was sitting in Dean's lap and panting. "Alright, Sammy?"

Sam nodded and rested his forehead atop Dean's head in his hair. "M'good. God… yeah. Good. So good." He lifted his hips up and dropped back down, nailing his own sweet spot with Dean's cock and bit off a loud, pleased curse. He felt exposed wearing only his shirts, naked from the waist down and riding his big brother in an open park that he couldn't even see. "Dean."

"Yeah, Sammy." Dean held on to his hips, guiding him as Sam rose and fell, and he let his head thump into Sam's chest with the delicious feelings working through him. His cock was being squeezed perfectly by the muscles inside his brother, and he was in serious danger of coming like a horny teenager.

Sam listened to the moans and grunts coming from his brother. He heard Dean's gasped breaths in his ear and felt his hands grasping and gripping at his ass, no doubt leaving the impression of Dean's fingers bruised into his skin. He could feel the constant shiver of reaction coursing through Dean's body against him and the increasingly unsteady jerk of Dean's hips up into his own; his brother's cock pressing into his sweet spot; his own cock rubbed between their shirts in almost too much friction. Sam tipped his head back and shouted as he came in the riot of sensation.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck!" Dean held on to his brother as Sam arched and came, rocking with the strength of it in his lap. The muscles around his cock clamped down and Dean shouted into Sam's collar bone. He thrust up again and again and came deep inside him with Sam still writhing in his arms. He held on to Sam while their orgasms worked through them both and finally slumped back against the tree with Sam a heavy weight against his chest. "Holy crap," Dean gasped and moaned softly when Sam shifted his hips with him still inside.

Sam chuckled a little breathlessly and nosed into the hair behind his brother's ear, sated. "Think I like… visiting parks." He felt boneless and heavy and wasn't planning on moving anytime soon.

Dean tightened his arms around Sam's back and sighed with contentment. "Normal doesn't suck." He chuckled softly. "Well, you know… normal aside from the whole I-just-screwed-my-brother thing." He grinned when he heard the fond 'Shut up, Dean,' murmured into his ear.

Azazel stood on the opposite side of the pond from the Winchesters and watched with his yellow eyes wide and his jaw hanging open. It was one thing to have thought they were perhaps closer than brothers but another altogether to see it in action. He looked at the lean lines of Sam's bare legs folded up on either side of his big brother's hips, at the shapely curve of his backside and began to grin. "Oh, this is delicious. This is…" he stopped and shook his head slowly, savoring the image before him as the two men cuddled close and were oblivious to the world around them as they caught their breaths; the way Sam still visibly shuddered in reaction and how much Azazel wanted to feel that first-hand. He backed away slowly into the trees, keeping them in sight until at last he turned and started away, still grinning. "Maybe this will be the thing that breaks that stubborn daddy of yours, boys, hmm? Bet he won't be feeling so righteous down in the pit once he hears about this. Delicious. Just delicious."

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_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Fumbling in the Dark

**Author**: Wincesteriffic Kaz

**Info:** A spell steals something precious from Sam and leads to a revelation between the brothers. Set early season 2 Dean/Sam

**Author's Note:** The delay on this chapter was brought to you by the madness that is GISHWHES. Yes, I got roped into participating this year. LOL I think this chapter may make up for the wait you've endured. Heh heh heh heh

Graphic depictions within.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_**

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_Azazel stood on the opposite side of the pond from the Winchesters and watched with his yellow eyes wide and his jaw hanging open. It was one thing to have thought they were perhaps closer than brothers but another altogether to see it in action. He looked at the lean lines of Sam's bare legs folded up on either side of his big brother's hips, at the shapely curve of his backside and began to grin. "Oh, this is delicious. This is…" he stopped and shook his head slowly, savoring the image before him as the two men cuddled close and were oblivious to the world around them as they caught their breaths; the way Sam still visibly shuddered in reaction and how much Azazel wanted to feel that first-hand. He backed away slowly into the trees, keeping them in sight until at last he turned and started away, still grinning. "Maybe this will be the thing that breaks that stubborn daddy of yours, boys, hmm? Bet he won't be feeling so righteous down in the pit once he hears about this. Delicious. Just delicious."_

**Chapter 5**

The more he thought about how Sam had looked in the park, the more Azazel's mind seemed to work itself back around to the youngest Winchester. Oh, he'd always had a soft spot for the kid. Sam was his favorite after all. But now there was a fresh level to it; a new hunger after having watched the boy with his big brother and hadn't that been particularly satisfying. Azazel ran his fingers over his lips and looked out at the Winchesters' motel. He stared at the closed room door like a junkie knowing where his next fix was. "Oh, Sammy," he muttered and clicked his tongue with a slow grin. "The fun we're gonna have, kiddo."

"Master."

"What?" Azazel turned to look at the lower-level demon and its blonde, prom queen meat suit with disdain. "I'm busy."

"The witch found a way." The demon held out a cell phone and backed away quickly when Azazel snatched it from her small hand.

"Go away." Azazel put the phone to his ear and continued to watch the motel room. "If you can't cure him, you'll beg for death."

"I can. I can, master. I swear." The witch groveled over the line and made Azazel smile.

"Tell me."

"Master, it's your blood." The witch said quickly. "More of your blood in the boy's body should counter the effect of the hex."

"Should?" Azazel said dangerously.

"Will! Will. It will counter it, master. I'm sure." The witch assured him quickly. "Feed him more of your blood and it will burn through him and take the hex with it. His sight, all of it, will return. I swear."

Azazel considered as he looked out at the motel. He began to smile again and nodded. "You can live. For now. Fail me again in anything large or small and I can make sure you stay alive and screaming while I tear out your intestines." He flipped the phone closed before he had to listen to her again and slipped it into a pocket. He brushed his fingers over his lips again thoughtfully, considering how best to dose Sam Winchester again with his pet guard dog around.

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Sam stretched languidly on the bed, straightening his toes and arching his back. He could hear Dean in the shower still and smiled to himself as he remembered their escapade earlier in the park. Dean had brought him back, poured him into bed, and curled up around him for an afternoon nap. There was something to be said for being lazy, normal people. The shower cut off and Sam stretched again like a sated cat.

Dean pulled open the bathroom door and had to stop and watch his little brother's body muscular body arch and stretch over the too small bed. He shook his head in wonder, still amazed that he got to touch and taste all that amazing flesh now. "Jesus, Sammy. Do you know what you look like right now?"

Sam chuckled and settled back to the bed. "What do I look like?"

"Like a damn dessert buffet and I've got the only free pass." Dean eased a hip onto the bed beside Sam and ran a hand down the flat plane of his stomach, watching the muscles ripple with the touch. He bent over and chased his fingers with his tongue.

"Oh, crap," Sam moaned as he felt Dean's rough tongue gliding over his abdomen, up and down and them moving up his chest. "That… that feels awesome."

Dean hummed agreement and licked around Sam's right nipple before taking it between his teeth and biting gently until his brother whimpered. He knew Sam was even more sensitive to touch now that his sight was gone and Dean decided to see just how much advantage he could take. He hadn't bothered getting dressed and levered up so he was on his hands and knees over Sam. He leaned down and bit gently at the side of his throat and Sam gasped. He brushed his fingers over the inside of his hip and Sam's hips rolled up to seek more, only to find nothing.

"Jesus, Dean. Killin' me here." Sam put his head up in a silent plea for a kiss and felt his brother's breath and soft lips slide across his own before they were gone again. "Dean!" he laughed.

Dean chuckled. He slid a leg between Sam's and just brushed the bottom of his testicles, earning a shiver. "How you doin', baby boy?"

"God," Sam panted and whined as his brother's warm, work-roughened hand slipped along the length of his cock and then away again. Lips grazed the shell of his ear, hot breath flooding inside and then that tongue laved down the slope of his throat and teeth nibbled across his Adam's apple. His soft pants and gasps became a loud moan when he felt the hard length of Dean's cock rub suddenly along his own and his brother's weight settled into his chest. "Dean. Fuck… Dean."

Dean watched Sam's eyes blinking furiously in an effort to see. He leaned down and kissed them until the lids closed. "Shh." He thrust his hips gently so their cocks rubbed deliciously against each other and eased a hand down to wrap around them both. "So beautiful, Sammy. Christ you're gorgeous. You don't even know."

Sam buried his face in his brother's neck and whined again; feeling his cock slipping wetly now against Dean's in the circle of his fingers. It was just the right amount of pressure to drive him mad. Dean's short hair tickled the side of his face and his brother's teeth and tongue sucked at the bend of his shoulder. Sam cried out and thrust his hips up into his brother. "Dean!"

"Fall apart for me, Sammy," Dean gasped and sped up his pace. He leaned back to watch Sam's face and smiled. "Come on. Come for me. Just like this."

"Ah… ah… ah…" Sam's voice was a broken litany of syllables as he thrust against Dean over and over and finally it became too much. He threw his head back on a shout as his release found him and he spurted hot and wet over them both, feeling each droplet as it splattered on his stomach and chest.

"Fuck me," Dean breathed and began jacking them both with purpose, chasing his own orgasm as he watched Sam's expressive face. It took only a few strokes and he was coming with his brother; adding to the mess on Sam's chest and stomach while he groaned his little brother's name into his ear over and over.

Sam blinked into the darkness and wrapped an arm around Dean as his brother slowly slid off to the side and laid against him. He grinned. "I gotta… gotta stretch more often." He worked to catch his breath and laughed softly along with Dean's low chuckle.

Dean leaned up on an elbow and reached up to brush Sam's long hair out of his eyes while he smiled. "You remember when you were sixteen? You got on the swim team for a few weeks before we moved and I used to go with ya' to that public pool so you could practice." He snorted a laugh and rubbed his knuckles over Sam's stubbled jaw. "Fuck, I used to watch you stretching, all wet from the pool. Got me so damn hard I had to excuse myself every time."

"Holy crap I remember that!" Sam exclaimed. "I thought you just got bored and took off!"

"Nope. Rubbin' one out in the bathroom 'cause you mostly naked, wet and stretching was too much, man. Too damn much." Dean laughed. "Looks like it still is." He laughed again when his stomach rumbled and leaned down to kiss his brother. "Think that's my cue to go grab dinner and you need a shower."

Sam nodded. He slid his hand up Dean's arm, over his neck and behind his head to pull him back down for another kiss. "Mmm. You could shower with me."

Dean chuckled and pulled away, bringing Sam up with him. "Then I'll never get food. Come on." He steadied Sam when he stood and turned him so he was facing the bathroom. "You manage? Or do you want me too…"

"I can do it." Sam said surely and squeezed Dean's arm to let him know he was really alright. He wanted to do more by himself and he was familiar enough with the motel room to manage. "Go grab dinner. Get me something not artery hardening."

"Spoilsport." Dean grabbed his bag and dug out fresh jeans and a shirt. He skipped his underwear, not planning on being in them long later anyway.

Sam smiled and made his way slowly across the room, grinning when he found the bathroom door on his own without running into it. "Don't take long."

"I won't." Dean pulled his shirt over his head, grabbed his wallet, his keys, and watched Sam go into the bathroom. It still bothered him to leave his brother alone and defenseless, even for the twenty minutes it would take him to get food. "Hey, uh… be careful, Sammy."

"Dean. It's a shower."

"People die in the shower all the time."

"Stupid people trying to have acrobatic sex die in the shower." Sam laughed and turned. "Go! Food. I'll be fine."

"Well, now I wanna try acrobatic shower sex just to prove you wrong." Dean grinned and nodded as his brother closed the bathroom door with a laugh. "Twenty minutes!" he called and left, pulling the door closed securely behind him.

Sam took his shower quickly, wanting to be out and dressed by the time Dean returned to prove that he could handle himself even without his sight. It was still disorienting to move about completely in darkness but he was managing. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and sighed. Shaving was something he definitely wouldn't be attempting any time soon. "I miss shaving," he muttered and toweled off his hair as he found the knob on the bathroom door and opened it. "Dean?" The silence that greeted him told him his brother wasn't back yet. He found his duffel at the end of his bed where he'd left it along with the clothes Dean had set out earlier for which he was grateful. Getting his jeans on the right way around took a little work without being able to see but finally he was able to tug them up and fasten them. He felt around the bed for his shirt and jumped when something banged into the room door.

"Dean?" Sam felt his way across the room to the door, found the handle and pulled it open. "Dean, you forget your… ah!" Sam cried out in surprise as something sharp sliced into his right forearm and he jerked back.

"Whoa! Watch out, son! Walked right into my garden shears!" Azazel grinned and twirled his slim knife in his hands as he watched Sam's eyes roll blindly. "Sorry about the noise. Banged my cart into your door."

"You're… housekeeping?" Sam asked and clamped a hand over the tacky, bleeding wound in his arm and hoped it wasn't too bad.

"Yep. Sure am sorry about this. Here, let me have a look." Azazel quickly sliced his own palm open, pocketed the knife and smiled. He grabbed Sam's bleeding arm and slapped his own hand over the wound. He pressed them tightly together to make sure his blood was transferred. It gave him a thrill to be this close to Sam Winchester and the boy not have any idea the danger he was in. Azazel looked into Sam's sightless eyes and grinned again as he saw just the briefest, almost invisible fleck of yellow lurking in the blue-green before it was gone, evidence that his blood had indeed flowed into the young man as he'd hoped. "That's one nasty gash, kiddo. Let me call someone."

Of course, what he wanted to do was shove Sam into the room, force him onto the bed and ravish the boy until he was screaming and bloody. He eyed the naked expanse of Sam's chest hungrily. Instead, he reluctantly allowed Sam to free his arm. It wasn't time for those fun and games yet.

"No. No, really, I'm fine. My, uh… My brother'll take care of it when he gets back. Thanks. Thank you." Sam stammered and couldn't decide why the man's voice put him on edge, but it did. He wanted to be away from him.

"Your loss, kiddo." Azazel backed away. "Hope that brother of yours gets home soon then. Keep pressure on that. Wouldn't want to lose any more of that precious blood."

"Right. Yeah." Sam squeezed a hand around the open wound and backed into the room again carefully. He found the edge of the door with his foot. "Thanks again, uh…"

"Oh, don't mention. Sorry about that." Azazel chuckled. "You take care now, son."

Sam nodded and toed the door closed. He blew out a breath in pain. "Dean's gonna be pissed. Dammit," he groaned and felt around with his foot until he found the bed. Sam turned and sat, hoping Dean wouldn't be much longer. He couldn't very well stitch his own arm without his sight and the gash felt bad enough for that under his fingers. A few moments later he heard the distinctive rumble of the Impala's engine outside and steeled himself for Dean losing his cool. The engine cut off and seconds later, as if on cue, Sam heard his brother cuss loudly and the motel room door banged open.

"Sammy? There's blood outside the door! What the fuck happened?" Dean slammed into the room, closed the door and looked at his brother sitting bare-chested on the side of the bed nearest. His right arm was awash in blood from his elbow to his hand. "Holy shit!"

"It's ok, I think." Sam tried to aim his face toward where he thought Dean was. "The housekeeping guy was out there, banged into the door and when I opened it I walked right into his garden sheers."

"Well, what'd you open the damn door for anyway? Shit!" Dean tossed the bag of food on the table and went to his duffel to dig out the first aid kit.

Sam sighed. "I thought it was you and you forgot your key."

Dean knelt in front of his brother and took his arm. "Lemme look at this." He moved Sam's hand away and gritted his teeth. The cut was two inches long at least and deep. "Shit, Sam. I'm gonna have to stitch this closed. Lay down. It'll be easier if I do it here."

"Right." Sam turned and put his legs up on the bed and eased back, grateful for his brother's hand behind his head to keep him from hitting the wall. "Thanks. Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean shook his head and remembered Sam couldn't see it. "Not your fault, dude. Just have to keep you away from pointy objects until we get your sight back." He sat on the bed beside his brother's hip and put the bleeding arm in his lap, unconcerned about blood-stains on his jeans. Sam was more important. He cleaned the wound as carefully as he could and frowned. "Must have been some seriously sharp garden shears. The edges of this cut are pristine."

"Yeah. Went right into me." Sam grimaced at the feel of disinfectant and bit his bottom lip to keep from groaning aloud. "Hurt like hell. The guy was nice about though. Even tried to stop the bleeding. I don't think he realized I'm… that I couldn't see him."

"Dude can keep his garden shears somewhere less dangerous next time. Hold still." Dean threaded a suture needle and bent to begin the stitches. He smiled slightly as Sam lay stoically through the process. His little brother was damn strong-willed. Dean wouldn't have faulted a whimper or two, but all Sam did was breathe heavily through his nose as he managed the pain. "Almost done. Few more."

Sam nodded and tried to focus again on the feel of Dean's hip warm against his thigh and the smell of burgers in the little room. "You were supposed to get me something healthy, not cheeseburgers loaded with onions."

Dean snorted. "That's my lunch you're sniffin'. Got you the rabbit food special. They even had this pansy, raspberry vinaigrette thing for it."

Sam chuckled and smiled when one of Dean's hands smoothed up his chest for a moment. "Can't smell the lettuce."

"Smart ass. Ok." Dean wiped away the last of the blood from the now closed wound and grabbed the bandage. "Just let me wrap this up. We'll have to keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn't get infected. That's the last thing you need."

Sam put his good arm over his face and closed his useless eyes. "I wish Bobby would find something."

"He will," Dean said firmly. "Tell you what. Tomorrow, we'll pack up and head to Sioux Falls."

Sam smiled. The thought alone was enough to make him feel better and then he frowned.

"What?" Dean asked seeing the change of expression on his brother's face.

"We can't… I mean, there's no way we can do… that we can… we have to just be brothers at Bobby's." Sam stammered through it, and the thought of not being able to touch Dean when he wanted, when he needed to, was depressing.

"Hey." Dean tied off the bandage and tugged Sam up so he was sitting facing him. He curved a hand around Sam's roughened jaw and rested their foreheads together. "I'm not sayin' we tell Bobby that we added incest to our list of broken laws, but you can still touch me. Hell, you've always touched me." He chuckled and kissed Sam lightly. "You never did have much of a concept of personal space with me, dude. No one's gonna think different about it. Now, we're not gonna bump uglies at Bobby's 'cause no way. That's just… that's like screwing in Dad's truck. That's wrong."

Sam was surprised into a laugh and wrapped his arms around Dean, being careful of his wounded arm. "Bump uglies."

"Horizontal mambo?" Dean rose up on one knee and pushed Sam back to the bed while they laughed. "Grind the gizzard. Knock boots."

"You're ridiculous." Sam laughed as Dean kissed him and lay over the top of him.

"Your face is ridiculous. Now shut up and kiss me, bitch."

"Jerk… umph." Sam lost himself in the feel of Dean's lips and tongue and groaned loudly when Dean tunneled the fingers of one hand into his hair and pulled.

Dean chuckled against Sam's lips and pulled his hair again, tugging a fistful of it until his brother's head went back on a moan. "I knew it."

"Shuddup."

"Knew you kept this shaggy mop for a reason. Hot damn." Dean tugged again and attacked Sam's throat with his lips, nipping and licking until Sam was shivering beneath him. Sam's back arched up into his chest and Dean slipped between his brother's legs. "Fuck, Sammy." A whimper escaped his brother then and Dean frowned. He opened his eyes and looked down to find Sam's eyes scrunched closed and his mouth open as he panted. "Sammy?"

"Dean," Sam groaned it as pain assaulted him and twisted like a knife through his head. "Vis… vision!"

"Crap!" Dean rolled off of Sam and gathered him into his lap, pulling him against his chest as he shook. "Ok. It's ok. I got you. Just wait it out like before. You're gonna be fine."

Sam wanted to nod, to let Dean know he heard him but he couldn't. The pain became a white-hot agony that ripped through him and stole his breath on a choked scream. Expecting the same blackness, he wasn't prepared when light, color, and sound assaulted his senses. There was a cascade of images - a woman being torn apart, a man writhing in a pool of his own blood, another woman being torn limb from limb - and he realized they must be all the visions he had missed because of the hex. The pain was so all consuming he couldn't hear himself screaming or Dean's terrified voice trying to reach him. The agony seemed to go up another level, and Sam arched back as new images came to him. They were horrible; he saw Dean, but not his brother as he was. He saw his big brother torn apart, blood everywhere, and Sam saw himself holding Dean and sobbing over him… over his dead body. The image of Dean faded into an inky blackness licked with fire, and he felt as though he were falling… falling forever. The terror of that pulled another scream from him and finally it left him.

"Sammy!" Dean gasped as his brother's arched body suddenly collapsed in against him and went still. "Sam? Sam!" He put his fingers to his brother's throat and sobbed out a breath when he found his heart beating strong, if too quickly. "God. What the fuck was that? Sammy?" He carded his fingers gently back through his brother's hair and rolled his face up so he could see him. "Need you to wake up for me and tell me what that was, baby boy. Come on." He spoke softly and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. His own heart was pounding in his chest from having to watch Sam go through that and hold on to him as he seemed to almost seize.

Sam came back to himself with Dean's soft, worried voice in his ear. He opened his mouth and had to swallow twice before he could speak. "Dean."

"Ah, Jesus, Sammy." Dean pulled his brother up against his chest and held him, letting the fear wash away with the sound of his name. "Scared the hell outta me. You alright?"

"I, uh… I dunno." In Sam's mind was the image of himself holding his lifeless brother and it made him cold with dread. He blinked, opened his eyes, and his breath froze in his chest. "Dean?"

"Yeah. I'm right here." Dean eased Sam back a little and looked down at him. It was a full three seconds before he realized that Sam was looking back at him, directly into his eyes. "Sammy?" As he watched, those beautiful, blue-green eyes filled with tears to spill over his cheeks.

"I can see you," Sam whispered and feasted on the sight of his brother's face, of his long, golden lashes outlined in the last sunlight of the day through the window. He didn't care that he was crying. He could see again. "Oh, God."

Dean crushed Sam to him and felt a tear crawl down his own cheek. "You can see! Holy crap, you can see again!"

Sam ignored his pounding head in favor of pushing away from Dean in order to look at him again. He desperately needed to see him, to see everything. "You're beautiful. The room is beautiful. Even the damn stained ceiling is fucking beautiful. I love you!" He grabbed Dean's face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly in an explosion of joy. "I can… umph… I can see again!"

Dean felt a laugh bubble out of him and toppled them both back to the bed where he could cradle Sam in his arms more comfortably. He kissed Sam back for several minutes, grinning and tipped his head back to watch Sam staring at him. "So what do you wanna do now you can see again?"

Sam gave his own grin and rolled his hips up into his brother's. "I wanna watch you come."

Dean shuddered and curled his head down into his brother's neck with a breathless laugh. "Holy crap."

Sam chuckled and ran his hands down Dean's back. "You're wearing too many clothes. You should fix that." The pain in his head had receded on a wave of 'want' and he smiled, watching as Dean rolled off of him and the bed to strip out of his shirts. Sam's eyes hungrily ate every centimeter of skin and toned muscle as it was revealed. He feasted his eyes on his brother's cock as Dean shoved his jeans over his hips and grinned at the lack of underwear.

"I feel like a slab of beef," Dean said with a laugh and kicked his jeans away. He loved the way Sam was looking at him, like he couldn't get enough and crawled back up the bed to hover over him. "Like what you see?"

"Love. Love you. Come here." Sam pulled Dean down to him to kiss him again.

Dean licked into Sam's mouth, tangling tongues with him until they were both gasping for breath. He leaned back finally and took Sam's face in his hands. "Hey, Sammy?" Dean looked down at him, all seriousness for a moment. "What did you see? You uh… you were screaming. You kept saying that you were falling."

Sam's eyes widened and he shook his head. He would never tell his brother that he'd seen him dead. He couldn't. Whatever those images were Sam was going to make damn sure they never came true. "I don't know. I saw, well I guess the visions I missed before. Just people being killed. I'm fine now." He smiled and smoothed his hands down Dean's back and over the rounds of his ass to pull him in. "Better than fine, even."

Dean watched him a moment longer and knew he wasn't going to get anything else out of him. For whatever reason, Sam was holding something back. Dean decided not to pick an argument about it just then. "Alright. Think I can help you feel even better."

"I've got an idea," Sam said, grinned and easily flipped his big brother so Dean was on his back.

"Dude!"

Sam laughed. "Stay there." He slid down Dean's body slightly and leaned his head down to lick over one of his nipples and bite it gently with his teeth.

"Oh, hell," Dean groaned and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of his brother's mouth on him. He felt Sam's hands rubbing softly up and down his sides and could have easily lost himself in the sensation.

Sam moved further down, licking and kissing over each cut of abdominal muscle until he was poised above Dean's groin. "Wanted to do this so bad for so long."

Dean leaned up and watched as his little brother suddenly took his cock in his mouth. It was wet and hot and Sam sucked, blowing his mind. "Fuck!" Dean fell off his elbows and stared at the ceiling while Sam's mouth drove waves of pleasure through him. He tried not to rock his hips up into that suction. He didn't want to choke him, and then Sam sucked him down deep enough to bump the back of his throat. "Holy shit!" He fumbled a hand down into Sam's hair and pulled until his brother popped off his cock with a filthy grin. "Gonna make me come!"

Sam shook his head and crawled back up his brother's body. "Nope. Not yet. I wanna watch. Wanna see you fall apart for me this time." He took his brother's hand and slid the fingers into his mouth. Sam sucked them lavishly until they were good and wet before releasing them once Dean was panting under him and staring into his eyes. "I want you in me and I wanna watch you come while you're inside me."

"Fuck. Fuck." Dean slammed his eyes closed and worked not to come right there. He gave a breathless laugh finally and opened his eyes again to see Sam grinning above him. "Think I like when you talk dirty."

Sam guided Dean's spit-wet fingers behind himself and shuddered as they brushed over his entrance. "Then you better open me up so you can put that cock in me."

"Fuck." Dean growled and rolled his brother so Sam was on his back again. He pushed one finger inside him, loving the needy moan he earned and pulled it back out. "Don't move." Dean ducked hastily off the bed and dug the lube out of his jeans pocket and then was back between Sam's legs. "Dude, I'm not opening you up with just spit."

Sam laughed and then gasped as Dean pushed a finger into him again. "Oh… ok. God."

"Just call me Dean."

Sam wanted to argue with him, but just then Dean pressed a finger into his prostate and the ability for coherent speech left him. He was reduced to single syllables and whines, pleas and gasps as his brother worked until he had three fingers in him and was brushing his prostate with every thrust of his fingers like it was his cock. "God. Dean! Dean, please! Please, please."

"Fuck. I love it when you beg, little brother." Dean pulled his fingers free of Sam and quickly spread lube over his own cock, shivering at his touch. He crawled back over Sam and leaned down to kiss his eyes one at a time. "You gonna watch while I slide into you?"

"Holy fuck, yes. Yes!" Sam opened his eyes. He felt the head of Dean's cock at his entrance and watched his big brother's face go slack with pleasure as he so slowly pushed inside. Sam moaned long and loud, unable to keep the sounds in with the visage of Dean overcome with pleasure because of him. He had wanted to see it so badly; needed to see Dean like this. "Love you!" Sam gasped as Dean bottomed out inside him and his cock rested against Sam's prostate in a maddening pressure that made his hips twitch.

It was somehow even more intimate, Dean thought as he slowly began to thrust into his brother; Sam watching him so avidly. The eye contact made it even more than it had been before. It choked him up a little as he stared into Sam's eyes, and he knew this was what had been missing; that connection. "Fuck, I love you, Sammy," Dean said and thrust home hard, jerking Sam an inch up the bed so he howled in pleasure.

"Dean!" Sam shouted his brother's name and couldn't help but slam his eyes closed as Dean began to fuck him in earnest. Every thrust moved him up the bed and made the mattress squeak and the headboard bang into the wall. It was perfect. He felt his orgasm already creeping up on him and just when he thought he was going to lose it completely, Dean's hand was on the base of his cock. His brother squeezed hard and stopped him from coming and Sam whimpered as he stared up at him desperately.

"Not yet," Dean growled and thrust again. "Not 'til I say, Sammy."

"Oh, God." Sam moaned and gasped, panting for breath with his orgasm so close and denied.

"Me first, remember?" Dean grinned. Normally, he would have been all about making Sam come first, but he knew what his brother wanted and he was going to give it to him. Sam deserved to see what Dean saw each time he made Sam come; the beauty of it. He thrust again, harder and harder until he was sure Sam would have bruises on the inside of his hips. "Close… so close, Sammy."

"Do it," Sam took hold of Dean's hips and pulled him in harder as they watched each other. He could see the look of pleasure-hazed strain on his face. "Come for me, Dean. Come!" Sam watched in awe as Dean shouted his name, threw his head back and came. He could feel Dean filling him up inside and his brother's face was a mask of passion until finally he slumped back down and huffed a breath into Sam's neck; his hips stilling for a moment but his grip never slackened on Sam's cock.

"Oh, fuck, Sam," Dean moaned and shivered through the end of his orgasm. He twitched his hips inside Sam and made himself thrust again. He picked his head back up to look at Sam with bleary eyes and smile. "Your… your turn."

Sam nodded raptly and held on to Dean while his brother continued to push in and out of him. Dean's hand loosened around his cock and began to stroke and Sam whined as the sensations began to overwhelm him. "Dean. Dean! Gonna… I'm gonna…"

"Yeah." Dean jacked Sam's cock harder and slammed his hips into his brother's one more time and it pushed him over the edge.

Sam came like a man possessed. He had to close his eyes as he howled out his pleasure. It broke through him in wave after wave with Dean over him and inside him, with his hand stroking his cock so expertly and then his teeth on his throat. He felt Dean ease out of him as the aftershocks began to dwindle but didn't have the energy just then to move. Sam cracked his eyes open just enough to see Dean's face and smiled lazily as he settled down beside him and drew Sam in, heedless of the mess of come spattered up his chest. Sam brought one trembling hand up to trace the line of Dean's jaw, watching with his eyes and smiled.

Dean smiled back and turned his face into Sam's palm. "I like you seeing me."

"I like seeing you." Sam brushed his fingers over Dean's soft, full lips and down his chin, feeling the scrape of day old stubble under the pads of his fingers. "Can't believe the hex just wore off like that."

"'Bout damn time it did." Dean leaned in and kissed Sam slow and deep before leaning back to look at his kiss-swollen lips and grin. "Told you we'd get your sight back."

Sam smiled more broadly and cuddled in against Dean's chest, tucking his head under his chin. "I had faith in you." He had faith that Dean would have made the best of it no matter what happened; even if Sam had stayed blind the rest of his life. And he had faith that he would find a way to stop whatever he had seen in the visions. Dean would not die on his watch. Not ever. Sam closed his eyes and for the first time in days, the darkness was comforting rather than frightening. He listened to Dean's steady breaths under his ear and watched the play of light through his closed lids with contentment; at peace.

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_The End. _


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